


if this isn't nice, i don't know what is

by marswithghosts



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety, Borderline Personality Disorder, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Homophobia, M/M, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 21:37:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9143275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marswithghosts/pseuds/marswithghosts
Summary: “And I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.” -- Kurt VonnegutOr, the one where Kent Parson learns to love himself.Sequel toA Little Bit Closer.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It isn't necessary to read [A Little Bit Closer](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7289398/chapters/16553278) before reading this, but I feel like there would be missing context if you don't. But please don't feel obligated to read them in order! Really!

****

**_

winter

_**

****

The annual Las Vegas Aces Casino and Benefit Night is Kent’s favorite part about the entire month of December. He doesn’t have any family he wants to spend Christmas with (and he refuses to let Jack and Bitty pity-invite him for their second Christmas together), but for the annual benefit, he gets to spend several hours with fans, raising money for charity, and dressed like a very snazzy card dealer. He loves it.

But this year things are different for 2017, as the charity has merged with the still-in-its-infancy Las Vegas major league baseball team, the Scorpions. Kent hasn’t met any of the team before, but from what he’s been reading online, they’re comprised of veterans from other baseball teams, new draftees, and young guys plucked from other farm systems.

Kent is paired with an obscenely tall guy—a catcher, he thinks he heard—whose name is Javier. They’re starting the night as bartenders, following easy recipes on notecards, but Kent notices that Javier doesn’t have to follow the instructions the way he does.

“You bartend?” Kent asks, to make conversation. The smile he gets in return is wide and bright.

“When I was in college, yeah. I had a full scholarship for baseball, but I needed spending money.”

Kent raises an eyebrow. “So you’re a college man?”

“My family didn’t break their backs with three jobs apiece for nothing,” Javier says, smoothly sliding a glass of something green—and vaguely glowing—across the bar to a waiting girl in a tight red dress. Kent glances at her only briefly before looking up (and up) at Javier again. He thinks for a moment how Bitty would look standing next to him and reminds himself to ask Bitty to visit again in the future, maybe in summer for a ballgame.

“They worked to put you through school?”

“Oh, hell yeah. I needed books, you know? And fees and stuff, that didn’t come cheap. The scholarship was only for the tuition.” He hip-checks Kent, which surprises him; people generally don’t treat him like this—like a normal person. “Keep up, _capitán_. You’re behind.”

Not one to be outdone by anyone, Kent gets a little faster with his drink-mixing, but he’s nothing compared to Javier. It’s almost frightening, how good and fast he is, and after a while Kent ends up being his assistant—fetching fresh grapefruits, squeezing limes, adding salt to rims. They work in tandem like a well-oiled machine, and Kent has never cooperated with a stranger so efficiently before. When he’s not fetching things, he’s watching Javier work—his hands, wide and calloused, casually flipping bottles and pouring shots and rousing the crowd from the usual polite enjoyment to cheers and whoops. At one point, Javier does something ridiculous with flipping bottles and juggling, and even Kent has to clap.

“All tips go to the kids,” Javier says, “so open your wallets and show me your love.”

Kent has always been referred to as charming, but this is so different. Maybe it’s because all the crowd knows is this is some baseball player. They know Kent as Kent Parson. They treat Kent as Kent Parson, whereas they’re treating Javier like…they like him. And they clearly don’t know him.

Once the line has slowed a bit, Javier leans against the bar with his big arms folded across his chest. He’s everywhere proportionate to his height—his shoulders maybe a little broader than average, his waist trim and narrow, tapering into solid hips and thick thighs. He’s a catcher. Kent’s watched baseball maybe once or twice on TV, but always found it boring. He thinks it would’ve been less boring if Javier had been on his screen.

“Are you checking me out?” Javier says, and Kent’s eyes avert, practiced, giving a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“Nah, man. Sizing up the competition. You’d do pretty okay in hockey, you know.”

“Way to disappoint.”

Kent looks at him, keeping his face politely cocky, his usual at-rest expression. “Oh?”

“Customers,” Javier says, and he turns around and starts flipping bottles again. Kent cleans glasses for him and salts rims. He juices grapefruits and lemons and limes. He keeps looking at Javier whenever he thinks he can get away with it. No way. Not a guy like that. No _way_.

They make small-talk—nothing too personal or invasive—until Kent is on picture-and-autograph duty—ten bucks for a picture with him, five for an autograph. It usually takes up the rest of his night, and he finds himself looking back at the bar, where Javier is still making magic. But now he’s got Kent’s backup goalie, Rhino, as an assistant. Rhino is the shortest guy on the team, and he looks like a mouse next to Javier. Kent feels jealousy on a regular basis—he still tries to control it with Bitty, though sometimes it’s hard and he has to forcibly choke on his acidic words—but this is different. He’s…kinda pissed. At Rhino. His stupid twenty-year-old backup goalie who doesn’t know shit about shit.

When he gets a break an hour later, he finds himself with his phone out, searching Google. He doesn’t know Javier’s last name, but “Javier Las Vegas Scorpions” brings up the mlb.com page for the team, so he scrolls through the roster.

Javier Martinez | #7  
C | B/T: L/R | 6’6”/225

 **Javier Yuniel Martinez**  
Born: 5/5/1993 in El Paso, TX  
**Draft:** 2014, Tampa Bay Rays, 3rd rd (104th overall)  
**College:** University of Texas at Austin  
**Debut:** 4/3/2017

Kent is a little surprised that Javier is nearly six years younger than he is; he certainly doesn’t _look_ like a twenty-four-year-old kid. He looks like…well. Not a kid. At all. And most of the pictures of him on the Scorpions page hide his face with that huge mask.

But his official picture makes Kent wonder if he got in trouble for smiling so big. He didn’t know you could smile like that in your photos for the team. Maybe baseball did things differently.

His smile is very nice.

Kent puts away his phone.

**

Not two nights later, he and Kit have settled down in a hotel bed in L.A., idly skimming through Twitter (and tweeting mercilessly at Bitty’s latest selfie of him in the snow in Montréal), when he notices a tweet @mentioning him.

 **@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson Your cat is very cute! She always looks so happy to see you!

Kent’s heart screeches to a halt, and his hand that had been gently petting Kit into sleep stills on her. She meows at him and he continues again, conditioned to do her bidding, as he stares at the tweet and the little picture accompanying it.

Before responding, Kent immediately goes to Javier’s profile, clicks on Media, and lets himself stare at the multitude of unselfconscious tweets Javier has put forever into the world since he got his Twitter. Pictures of him with what are clearly family members, teammates, friends; pictures on the beach, shirtless and brown and glowing in the sun; pictures with school textbooks and graded tests; pictures of Javier looking honest and genuine and, goddammit, _beautiful_. God, but he’s one of the most attractive men Kent has ever seen, with that sharp jaw and the plush mouth, straight nose, heavy brows, and huge dark eyes. He looks like he could be on a fucking soap opera, the way his hair curls away from his face as though artfully coiffed. 

But this can’t mean a thing, he tells himself. They had a good time at the charity event, and athletes getting exposure to the public is always a good thing. Maybe Javier’s agent told him to keep in contact with the Aces captain, to cultivate a bigger interested in the new Vegas baseball team.

But if that were the case, why the hell would Javier tweet about Kit and not working the benefit together?

 **@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 she’s happy because I’m her food machine haha  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson No way, there’s love in her eyes, you can see it :)  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 I think that’s hunger  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson I think your cat adores you and it doesn’t really matter what you think.  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 are you saying you know my cat better than I do  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson I have it on good authority that cats can look at you with love! ow.ly/jp07Rt

Kent puts the hand that was on Kit to his mouth. He almost can’t breathe as he looks over the picture on his screen, Javier with a tabby on his lap, eyes looking up at him with sheer adoration as he looks back at the cat with the same.

 **@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 nice, that yours?  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson Technically mom’s. He was mine but then I went to college and couldn’t take him :( But he loves when I visit!  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 is he back in el paso?  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson You know I’m from El Paso? Did you Google me? ;)

Kent takes a slow, deep, even breath.

 **@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 briefly. I was curious if you weighed a metric ton or a metric fuck ton you look like you could eat goalies for breakfast  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson I don’t eat goalies, no worries.  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 shit do you eat other hockey players  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson Not goalies :)

That cannot have been sexual innuendo on a public Twitter, there’s no way, Kent is reading too deeply into this and trying to see what he wants to see, it’s only a joke, it’s not real, they’re just joking around online.

_Are you checking me out?_

Shit. Shit. Kent hasn’t actually flirted with anyone and meant it in so long. Jack was different—Jack was always different, he’s Jack, he’s this part of Kent that Kent can’t live without, like his spine, his ribcage, keeping his pieces together—and even Bitty is different. With them, it’s teasing, picking, poking. It’s not flirting. It doesn’t feel real. 

Kent, in this moment, also doesn’t feel real. Maybe that’s why he says what he does.

 **@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 I’m not a goalie  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson So I noticed. 

Direct Messages

 **@bibliobaker** Yoooooo, who is that guy you’re flirting with all over your Twitter, Parson?  
**@LegitKentParson** what are you talking about  
**@bibliobaker** His pictures tell me he is this massive tree of tall, dark, and handsome, holy shit, DO YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND???  
**@bibliobaker** If he’s not yours, can I take him?  
**@LegitKentParson** only if you swap  
**@bibliobaker** …Okay, never mind, but seriously—Parse, who IS THAT?  
**@LegitKentParson** baseball player for the new vegas team, we met at the charity auction, he’s nice  
**@bibliobaker** He’s edible.  
**@LegitKentParson** I’ll tell Jack  
**@bibliobaker** You do that, and when you do, ask him how he feels about his prime minister. 

**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 are you excited to play ball in vegas this year  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson I am super excited. I’ve never been a starter before. I worked hard to get here.  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 you were with tampa before right  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson I was :) And you were drafted by the Aces and made captain three years in.

Kent shivers.

 **@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 have you also been googling me  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson More like YouTube. You get into a lot of fights for a little guy.

Kent has never in his life been called little, and he feels so affronted he actually sits up in bed, jostling Kit from her spot against his side and earning himself a glare.

 **@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 UM did you just call me little? I’m not little at all  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson Everyone is little to me.  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 well you’re like one of those walking trees in lord of the rings, of course everyone is little to you  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson I love the Ents!! I’m happy to be an Ent. Does that make you a hobbit, or…?  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 oh my god? What is this conversation? NO. I’m not a hOBBIT  
**@bibliobaker** @LegitKentParson @JMartinez7 I’M WHEEZING LAUGHING PICTURE PARSE AS A HOBBIT  
**@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker @JMartinez7 ugh RUDE, if anyone’s a hobbit you are, you’re like 4-10 or smthg  
**@bibliobaker** @LegitKentParson @JMartinez7 Mr. Martinez, Parse exaggerates. I’m like five-nine.  
**@JackZimmermann** @bibliobaker @LegitKentParson @JMartinez7 this is wearing 3 inch heels right?  
**@JMartinez7** @JackZimmermann @bibliobaker @LegitKentParson XD Are you both hockey players too? I think I recognize Zimmermann  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 yeah @JackZimmermann is my bff  & plays for the bruins, @bibliobaker is my other bff & plays for the public library  
**@bibliobaker** @LegitKentParson @JMartinez7 @JackZimmermann AW PARSE, I’m a BFF? Really? ;A;  
**@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker @JMartinez7 @JackZimmermann if you cry, you lose your membership to the Kent Parson BFF Club  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson @bibliobaker @JackZimmermann Is that a membership that’s difficult to obtain, or what?  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 @bibliobaker @JackZimmermann I won’t make you do the written portion, but bring a graphing calculator

Direct Messages

 **@bibliobaker** He is seriously flirting with you.  
**@LegitKentParson** nah, he’s just nice, we worked well at the charity auction  
**@bibliobaker** No, he really is definitely flirting, and you look like you’re having a good time too.  
**@LegitKentParson** don’t make this into a thing, you know how I still feel about Jack  
**@bibliobaker** I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t push. I just. Got excited  <3 Because someone SHOULD be super into you, you are wonderful.  
**@LegitKentParson** I know you mean well but I really don’t think that’s what it is and I’d rather not get my hopes up  
**@bibliobaker** You should have a ton of hope, Parse. For everything. Hope looks great on you.  
**@LegitKentParson** it makes me feel weird  
**@bibliobaker** That’s okay. Just go with it as best as you can  <3333 Give Kit my love.  
**@LegitKentParson** I will

**

Javier’s cat’s name is Pudge, from a famous catcher Javier loved as a kid. He’s ten years old and getting grouchy as he ages. Javier tweets more pictures at Kent the next day during travel back to Vegas, and Kent responds with multiple new pictures of Kit. _She likes plane rides_ , he tells Javier. _She hates take-off though._

 _Nobody likes take-off,_ Javier says. _I’m terrified of plane rides. I spend most of my time doped up on baby Benadryl so I can sleep through it._

The thought of such a big man with this kind of a fear stirs something in Kent’s belly, warm and fond. He doesn’t even know Javier, not really, but he…wants to know him. 

They don’t talk every day at first, but then they do. It’s as gradual as anything, Kent entering the New Year talking to Javier. They don’t seem to have much in common at first, other than a love for cats and an intense work ethic for their respective sports, but as their conversations move from Twitter to Direct Messages to texts, Kent learns more about this gentle giant who is so proud of his Cuban heritage, this fierce lover of his family, enjoyer of sci-fi novels and video games. Kent gets an Xbox One so they can play games together, even though Kent is terrible at them. Javier talks him through each level and how to shoot each gun whenever Kent has the time, which isn’t often. But when Kent texts him, says, _hey you busy_ , Javier is never busy. He always says _No!!!!_ and they hang out. Virtually. Because they still haven’t met again in person. 

**Javvy:** ¡Mi madre me está visitando! :D :D :D What are the best seats in your hockey rink? She wants to see a game. _(2:34PM)_  
**Kent:** Your mom wants to see a hockey game _(2:34PM)_  
**Javvy:** Yes! After I told her all about you, she got super excited. The only ice in El Paso is in the freezer XD _(2:35PM)_  
**Kent:** I could just get you tickets if you wanted _(2:36PM)_  
**Javvy:** You don’t need to do that, Kent. I don’t mind buying them :) _(2:38PM)_

Direct Messages

 **@LegitKentParson** I need your help but you can’t tell Jack  
**@bibliobaker** My how the turn tables have turned.  
**@LegitKentParson** that’s from the office please I’m really having an issue over here and I don’t know who to talk to about it but I know it can’t be Jack, I don’t know what this means, I’m having a problem  
**@bibliobaker** Parse, are you okay? What’s going on?  
**@LegitKentParson** so I’ve been talking to Javvy for like a month now and his mom is visiting and he wants to take her to a game because he’s told her about me and he asked what seats were good and I offered to get them seats and Javvy said he can just buy them and he called me Kent, what do I do  
**@bibliobaker** Okay, hold on. I am reading this for like the third time. 1) You call him Javvy? 2) You’ve been talking to him for a month? 3) He told his mother about you? 4) You insist on buying his tickets, you dork, that’s the gentlemanly thing to do.  
**@LegitKentParson** I call him Javvy with a hard J because he thinks it’s funny, bitty please don’t say anything to anyone but I think I’m having a panic attack  
**@bibliobaker** Just breathe, honey, it’s okay. This isn’t bad. It sounds like you’ve made a very good friend in Javier. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that if you don’t want it to be. And if you do want it to be, that’s fine too. You know it’s fine, right? To want things?  
**@LegitKentParson** no I don’t know that, I really don’t  
**@bibliobaker** I promise you, you are 100% okay right now, and it’s okay to want things even if they’re new and different. Really. It’s okay. Just take deep, slow breaths. Focus on Kit a little, give her some attention to ground yourself.  
**@LegitKentParson** please please don’t tell Jack, don’t even tell him to talk to me okay  
**@bibliobaker** I promise I won’t bring it up at all, nothing even close to it. You can trust me. But why don’t you want Jack to know?  
**@LegitKentParson** it’s stupid but it feels like I’m cheating or something, it’s literally been just Jack my entire life, I don’t know what to do without him, I don’t like this, this feels wrong  
**@bibliobaker** You probably won’t ever stop loving Jack, and that’s okay. It doesn’t mean there’s no room for anyone else. And you’ve always been careful with your heart, Parse. You don’t need to stop now. You can let people in at your own pace. You owe nothing to anyone, do you hear me? Just treat yourself right. What do YOU want?

 **Kent:** I’d like to if that’s okay _(2:57PM)_  
**Javvy:** I won’t turn that down. She’ll be in the last week of January, hanging out with me before spring training. I know you have two home games then, either one is fine. Whatever’s easiest for you. I can pay you back with Scorpions tickets :) _(3:01PM)_  
**Kent:** I’ve never been to a baseball game _(3:01PM)_  
**Javvy:** You play hockey—you’ll find baseball boring. But I promise it’s pretty interesting once you know what’s going on. Cross my heart. _(3:03PM)_

Direct Messages

 **@LegitKentParson** I’m getting him tickets, he’s getting me baseball tickets when the season is here, does that mean anything  
**@bibliobaker** Maybe, maybe not. He’s super, super outgoing and nice, Parse. But I feel like he’s pretty flirty with you on Twitter.  
**@LegitKentParson** did you see what Buzzfeed said  
**@bibliobaker** I did. They weren’t exactly wrong—he’s definitely shown an interest in you in particular. And he took it in stride without confirming or denying anything.  
**@bibliobaker** But if you really want to know if it means anything, you’ll have to ask. That’s the only way to find out.  
**@LegitKentParson** but that’s bullshit, that’s scary  
**@bibliobaker** Yeeeeeeeeeep. I know, it’s fucking awful. But do you think he’s interested?  
**@LegitKentParson** sometimes yes, sometimes no  
**@bibliobaker** You can just ask. No harm done. He seems pretty open—there were pictures of him with rainbow tape on his bat last June for Pride in Tampa. He’s been vocally supportive, though I don’t know exactly where he falls with his, you know. Attraction.  
**@LegitKentParson** what if he says he’s just being friendly and I imagined all of it  
**@bibliobaker** I dunno, man. How would that make you feel?  
**@LegitKentParson** relieved and disappointed  
**@bibliobaker** And if he’s actually interested in, you know. Dating you?  
**@LegitKentParson** relieved and terrified  
**@bibliobaker** You don’t have to do anything right away, you know. You can just kinda wait to see how it goes before talking to him about it. Keep looking for signs, if you want. Nothing says you have to do anything right away.

 **Kent:** Are you interested in dating me, is that what all this has been, I feel like you’ve been flirting? _(3:21PM)_  
**Javvy:** Yes, yes, and yes. If you’re not interested, I understand. You’ve been a really good friend to have, so if you want to keep it that way, I’m perfectly fine with that. But yes, for the sake of clarity, I am interested in more, and I am interested in you :) _(3:25PM)_

Direct Messages

 **@LegitKentParson** I asked him, he said he’s interested, he said he’s fine if I just want to be friends but he’s interested in more and interested in me  
**@bibliobaker** Jesus, Parse. It’s like you just took the shark by the balls here. You know you could’ve waited, right??  
**@LegitKentParson** waiting makes me more nervous and when I’m that nervous I can’t sleep I have a game tomorrow I need to sleep tonight  
**@bibliobaker** Okay, just take a breath. I want you to be aware that I’m tweeting you during dinner and Jack is getting curious. I won’t tell him, but if it takes me a little longer to reply, this is why.  
**@bibliobaker** You don’t have to answer to him right now, if you don’t want. If you’re not sure how you feel, you can just tell him that. He’s going to be understanding.  
**@LegitKentParson** what if he’s not  
**@bibliobaker** He will be. He seems like a very understanding sort. You know him better than I do, you know.  
**@LegitKentParson** he’s really kind  
**@bibliobaker** Okay, then. Take it from there. 

**Kent:** I don’t know how I feel about that _(3:30PM)_  
**Javvy:** That’s okay. Should I stop with the flirting? I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. I’ve tried not to go too far and just keep it, like. Casual. Flirting. Between friends. _(3:31PM)_  
**Kent:** I don’t mind the flirting, I was flirting too _(3:32PM)_  
**Javvy:** I thought you were but sometimes I wasn’t sure. _(3:32PM)_  
**Javvy:** You make my heart race, Kent. _(3:33PM)_

Direct Messages

 **@LegitKentParson** HE SAID I MAKE HIS HEART RACE  
**@LegitKentParson** WHO SAYS THAT  
**@bibliobaker** Oh my God, I’m swooning, okay. Let’s regroup here. You can tell him to back off at anytime. I’m sure he knows that. It sounds like he’s going to be careful with you. Oh my God, he said you make his heart race, I want to cry.  
**@LegitKentParson** nobody’s said anything like that to me before, I really don’t know what to do  
**@bibliobaker** Just be yourself, it’s fine. You’re awesome. Just be yourself.  
**@LegitKentParson** I can’t, he won’t like me then  
**@bibliobaker** Honey, if he’s worth his salt, he’ll like ALL OF YOU. Nobody’s perfect! You don’t have to be perfect.  
**@LegitKentParson** he thinks I’m somebody I’m not  
**@bibliobaker** Not at all. This IS you. You’re not being fake or anything, I promise. 

**Kent:** Can we maybe just keep doing what we’ve been doing, I don’t know if I can like commit to something, I’ve got a lot of just stuff to go through but I don’t want to stop? Because I like you, that hasn’t happened in a long time. I’m not good at any of this _(3:49PM)_  
**Javvy:** Whatever you want. I’d just like to be in your orbit, that’s all. And I think you’re doing fine :) This doesn’t have to be a big thing or anything. Just know that. _(3:51PM)_  
**Kent:** We could maybe hang out in person though, we haven’t like done that _(3:52PM)_

Direct Messages

 **@LegitKentParson** he said he just wants to be in my orbit  
**@bibliobaker** OHHHHH MYYYYYY GODDDDDDDDDDDD  
**@LegitKentParson** stop it, you’ll start grinning and Jack will want to know what’s going on  
**@LegitKentParson** I said we should hang out in person because all we do is text and play call of duty on xbox  
**@bibliobaker** ;A; Parse oh my god  
**@LegitKentParson** stop it, you’re freaking me out more

 **Javvy:** You just let me know where and when. I’m free anytime. Except on Sundays in the morning, that’s my video chat time with mi madre. _(3:55PM)_  
**Kent:** you guys talk regularly huh _(3:56PM)_  
**Javvy:** She’s my best friend and has been since I was little. My dad walked out when I was three, and she raised six kids by herself. She’s a wonderful person. She taught me what it means to be a man. _(3:58PM)_  
**Kent:** my parents taught me what it means to be alone _(3:59PM)_

He doesn’t mean to say that. He doesn’t know why his fingers type that. They type it and they hit send and he didn’t have to, he could’ve said anything else in the world, but he didn’t. He said those words. Why?

 **Javvy:** It sounds like you’ve been through a lot. I read a lot of articles on you, but nothing mentioned your parents. I figured they weren’t very present. I’m sorry to hear that. _(4:01PM)_  
**Kent:** it’s okay, I didn’t mean to whine _(4:01PM)_  
**Javvy:** I know what whining sounds like, and that wasn’t it. I like talking to you. We can keep talking about whatever you want. _(4:02PM)_

Kent chews on his lip.

 **Kent:** you should come over _(4:02PM)_  
**Javvy:** Sure. :) Text me your address? _(4:03PM)_

Kent does. Then he tweets Bitty. Then he goes to lie down on the couch before he throws up.

 

Javier is bigger than he remembers. Even the YouTube videos of his defensive plays and homeruns don’t illustrate how tall he really is. Standing at the door to Kent’s penthouse, he looks like a bodyguard. Well. A bodyguard in a Ninja Turtles t-shirt and shredded jeans. He has a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, emphasizing his ridiculous pecs. Kent meets his eyes, but barely.

“Hey. I’m a little surprised Xavier let you in, I forgot to tell him you were coming up.”

“I just smiled like this,” Javier says, and he flashes a bright white grin at Kent that makes his knees stupidly weak. “He had no problem.”

Kent takes a step to the side to let him slip by, Kit making herself known by approaching Javier and bumping her head against his leg. He bends down and reaches his hand out to her, letting her sniff him before petting her gently. 

“She’s cuter in person,” Javier says, and Kent leans against the wall, arms across his chest, trying to find a deep breath within him somewhere. He hasn’t invited anyone over to his place since Jack and Bitty visited last summer. The last time he had sex was four months ago, a random, eager girl on the Strip, and if Kent hadn’t found a condom in his wallet he probably wouldn’t have done it. He’s isolated himself more and more, and even his teammates have noticed, though they haven’t asked. Kent Parson is untouchable. He used to like it.

But now he has this fine young man crouching on the floor in his entryway cooing at his cat, and Kent has to struggle to be cool in a way he’s never struggled with before. “She’s okay,” he finds himself saying, watching as Kit flops on her back and waits for belly rubs, which Javier dutifully gives. “What do you have in your bag there?”

“My Xbox controller and a few games for you to try,” he says, not looking up. The line of his spine is visible through his tight, thin shirt, and his big hand almost covers Kit entirely. Kit isn’t a big cat, but she’s not small either. She looks like a toy next to him. “I thought you might like some RPGs better than the first person shooters, so I picked a few things up.”

“Kind of you,” Kent says, moving into the kitchen to open up a beer, hoping it will calm his nerves. Javier doesn’t follow, and Kent can hear Kit giving her playful meows that she thinks are cute. “Did you, uh. Want anything to drink?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“It’s nothing fancy, like what you can make.”

“If you have a bar, I’d be glad to mix you a drink.”

Kent doesn’t think he can handle watching Javier be so adept again with bottles of liquor, those massive hands of his gentle on various fruits and accouterments. “I think a beer might be best right now.”

“Works for me. I’m not picky.” 

It should feel awkward, Kent tells himself, this first time that they’ve occupied space together since the benefit, merely an hour after Javier said, with all the sincerity a text can muster, _You make my heart race, Kent._ Kent doesn’t know _why_. He sees why Jack races for Bitty or Bitty for Jack. Or himself for Jack, realistically. But why would anyone do that for him?

They settle on the couch together, beers on coasters, and Javier doesn’t waste any time pulling several games from his bag and spreading them out on the coffee table. Kent leans forward to look at the covers.

“So this one,” Javier says, pointing to a game that says _Fallout 4_ , “is kind of like a survivalist roleplaying game. You play the Sole Survivor, either a male or female who has survived a nuclear war, and you get frozen for like two hundred years. When you come out, the world is super different, and your goal is to find the people that took your kid and killed your spouse.”

Kent raises his eyebrows. “And this is…a fun game?”

“Oh, definitely. You can build settlements and make friendships with your companions, barter and trade, and completely obliterated bad guys with laser guns.” He pauses. “I love the laser guns.”

Snorting, Kent lets Kit climb her way into his lap, leaning back against the cushions to give her space. “That’s a little unsettling, man.”

“Just wait until you see the super mutants,” Javier says, and his chuckle is all deep and warm. “You’ll want to laser-shoot them too.” He sets _Fallout 4_ aside and shows Kent _Dragon Age: Inquisition._ “So this one is pretty different, but it’s still a roleplaying game that has companions, lots of battles, bartering and trading, and even crafting of weapons and stuff. It’s set in a fantasy land called Thedas, and you can play as a human, dwarf, Qunari, or elf, male or female genders. You’re called the Herald at first because you survived this massive blast in a holy place that, like, killed everyone else. As the only survivor, you’re tried for like treason or whatever, but then everyone adores you and you set out to close a giant rift in the sky that’s letting all these demons and gross things in.” 

“Are there laser guns in a fantasy land?”

“Nope. Swords, bows and arrows, daggers, and _magic_. I usually play as a mage because they’re awesome.”

Kent likes the cover more than the Fallout cover, but lets Javier show him the other two games he’s brought over. Though he explains them, Kent interrupts him by picking up _Dragon Age_. “Let’s play this one,” he says, setting Kit gently between them while he opens up the game. “Is it two-player?”

“No, it’s one.” Javier leans back against the arm of the couch, making kissy noises to get Kit to climb on his lap, his fingers touching lightly on her fur from the top of her head down her back. “I figured we could create your character and I can walk you through it. It’s actually the third game in the _Dragon Age_ series, but it’s not totally necessary to finish either of the first games. I can explain anything that’s weird.” 

Kent snorts as he turns on his eighty-inch TV and his Xbox One. “I’m pretty sure the whole thing will be weird.”

“ _Chico rudo_ ,” Javier says, and Kent can’t get over the way his accent sounds when he speaks Spanish. It’s so subtle with his English that he can’t really catch it unless he listens closely. But his Spanish is all kinds of rolling warmth. “I think you’ll find it fun. I know I did. I’ve put like a hundred and fifty hours into it so far.”

“ _What_? You have that kind of _time_?”

Javier, occupied with Kit, isn’t looking at Kent. But Kent is looking at him, watching the thick lace of his lashes—not long but so curled—as he looks down at Kent’s adoring cat. Kit loves most everyone, but she’s taken to Javier quickly. “It’s my offseason, _acere_. I have plenty of time.”

Playing video games together is…fun and casual. Javier tells Kent what to do and where to go when he’s unsure, and Kent navigates through the first couple of hours of gameplay as a female archer elf. They talk while they play, Kent learning how to say things in Spanish for when Javier’s mom, Jacinda, comes to visit.

“She’s going to like you, don’t worry,” Javier says, taking the controller from Kent, who doesn’t like closing rifts. “My sisters, though, I don’t know about them.” The tone is teasing, so Kent doesn’t let himself get worked up by it.

“I think you said you had five siblings, right?”

“Yep. Four older sisters, one younger.”

Kent blinks at him as Javier finishes closing the rift. “Wow, so you’re the only boy.”

“Yep. My mom calls me _milagro_ , her miracle. I wasn’t supposed to make it. Can you believe I was a preemie baby?”

It’s hard to imagine Javier as anything but a huge mountain of muscle. “No way.”

“Yep. Spent three weeks in the hospital before they’d let her take me home. I got big pretty quick.” 

Indeed. Kent takes the controller and tries to concentrate on the game and not on the two feet of space between them on the couch. He thinks the physical space might be deliberate, but he’s not completely certain. Javier’s motivations are hard to gauge. On the surface, he seems to be content to hang out, maybe flirt a little. But Kent makes Javier’s heart race. Is it racing right now? Kent can’t tell. Javier is all smiles and crinkling eyes and big laughs. He can’t tell what’s going on inside that broad chest. “I was a huge baby,” Kent says, by way of conversation. “Like, damn near record big. I think I was twelve or thirteen pounds or something.”

“Holy shit,” Javier says. “You came out with hockey pads on and everything, huh?”

This time it’s Kent who laughs, and he can’t seem to stop. 

**

 **@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson I got a new game for us to play!!  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 1 or 2 player  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson Two!! Diablo III. You’re in Boston for tonight, right?  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 yeah I’m currently eating lunch with @JackZimmermann and @bibliobaker but I’ll be home tomorrow  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson Hi to @JackZimmermann and @bibliobaker!! #goaces

Kent doesn’t miss the way Bitty looks at him across the table at Cafe Sushi, and he gives Bitty a look back. Kent is counting on Jack being too dense to pick up on anything.

“He seems really nice,” Jack says, taking a sip of his water and putting his phone away. “Have you guys been hanging out?”

“A little,” Kent says. He doesn’t add, _Every day I’m home_. “We met at the auction.”

“Yeah, I heard.” Jack struggles with his chopsticks, but he finally manages to pick up a potsticker. “And he plays baseball?”

“He’s a catcher,” Bitty says, and he leans his chin on his hand with an exaggerated sigh. “A beefy, broad-chested, big-smiled beautiful tank of a man.”

Jack gives him a sidelong look before rolling his eyes. “You’re so easy.”

“I am. I am _very_ easy.”

So is Kent. He can’t stop thinking about Javier, or the feet of space that consistently remains between them. It’s been weeks and they haven’t even touched, other than the accidental brushing of fingers when passing the controller back and forth. If Kent hadn’t been getting certain tender texts from Javier, he would think he imagined the entire orbit conversation. 

“He likes video games a lot,” Kent says, picking at his tempura veggies. He wants to tell Jack, and he doesn’t. He wants Jack to know that there is a person in this world who exists and who texts Kent things likes _I had a hard time looking away from you tonight_ and _I miss you a little when you’re gone, I hope that’s okay_. He clarifies often, saying he hopes this or that is okay to say. Kent always says _yes of course it is_ , and once, bolder than he feels half the time, _I’m thinking a lot about you._

“Bitty’s been playing Skyrim,” Jack says, and there’s a moment where Kent recognizes some sort of an inside joke based on the way Bitty deliberately drops his fork and stares at Jack. Kent feels left out. It makes his stomach sour.

“This _asshole_ ,” Bitty says, pointing a piece of shrimp tempura at Jack, “thinks that all I do is play Skyrim. I _don’t_. I have a _job_ and a _life_.”

“Video games are addictive,” Kent says, and he doesn’t know if he means to side with Bitty or Jack, but Bitty takes it as him siding with Jack and looks at him as though betrayed.

“ _You’ve played sixty hours of Dragon Age_ ,” he says, sticking out his bottom lip. “Way to disappoint me, bro.”

“I mean to say,” Kent adds, “that it’s a wonderful use of time.”

Jack shakes his head and tsks. “Nope. You lost that one.”

Kent’s phone pings and he glances at the screen. _I’m super excited to show you this game!! I hope you have a good lunch, and get a win tonight! xx_

He smiles. 

**

Javier’s hands can nearly fit around Kent’s waist, they’re that big. He has callouses that are different from Kent’s, in different places, from playing different sports, and the drag of them on his bare skin makes him shiver. He feels enclosed in a cage of muscles and strength, Javier crouching over him, bracketing him, those hands of his moving up Kent’s chest to his neck, into his hair. He breathes Kent’s name into skin, the sinuous slide of his hips maddening. They are still half clothed, but barely—slips of cotton that might as well be air. Kent is hard. His body sings at him, urging him for more, and he puts hands to Javier’s narrowed hips, pulls, tugs on him. They could fuck like this, if Kent consented. He knows Javier wants it, has seen the way Javier looks at him sometimes, with this intense aching. Kent wants to give in. He has never submitted to anything before in his life, but Javier makes him want to.

Another roll of hips. Javier’s name, in full, coming off Kent’s tongue. They kiss, and it’s slower and softer and sweeter than Kent expected it to be. He wants to slip into the water that is Javier’s attentive focus, let himself drown in the swells.

Kent wakes up when his alarm goes off, and his cock is brutally hard in the confines of his pajama pants. He rarely remembers his dreams, but damn does he remember this one. And the others. At least three times now, he has had this same dream of being laid out and covered and kissed and fucked and loved on for hours. Groaning, Kent stumbles on trembling legs into the bathroom so Kit can’t follow, turning the shower on as hot as he can stand it, stripping, and jerking himself so hard he thunks his head against the tile with a soft cry. He’s been masturbating like he’s trying to earn a trophy, this whole last week. He feels sixteen again with a crush on lanky Jack Zimmermann and a libido the size of Jupiter. That has fizzled somewhat as he’s aged, but this, oh God, _this_. 

Masturbating to a dream of Javier is almost better than any sex he’s ever actually had, and Kent’s stomach curdles a little when he’s done and can breathe again. Each time, as soon as the pleasure has subsided, Kent feels sick. He can’t pinpoint the emotion, but it has something to do with guilt, maybe. Shame. Disgust. Uncertainty. Is there a single emotion that encompasses all of those? He’s not sure.

He doesn’t respond to Javier’s text (¡Hola! My mom says hi and she thinks you’re cute XD We’ll see you on Thursday, kick some Colorado ass tonight! xx) and instead vigorously gets dressed for the workout in the hotel gym. As he’s lacing up his sneakers, he sighs and sends Bitty a text.

 **Kent:** you free for a bit _(8:10AM)_  
**Bitty:** A very little bit, what’s up? _(8:10AM)_  
**Kent:** I don’t know how to say it _(8:11AM)_  
**Bitty:** Slowly and carefully :) _(8:12AM)_  
**Kent:** I’ve been having dreams, pretty vivid ones, they make me feel gross after. Idk why. Do you know why _(8:14AM)_  
**Bitty:** Honey  <3 I’m sure there are a lot of reasons why. Are you dreaming about Javier? _(8:15AM)_  
**Kent:** yeah, something about that feels wrong? Idk, just ( _8:15AM)_  
**Bitty:** I hope this isn’t too TMI for you, but I dreamt A LOT about Jack at first. And I felt kinda skeezy after too, like. He didn’t consent to that. But we can’t control our dreams, and sometimes we can’t control our bodies. If it helps, I’m sure Javier does nooooot mind. _(8:16AM)_  
**Kent:** I’m not ready for any of that though like the thought of acting on the dream makes me freak out, that’s weird isn’t it, that can’t be normal _(8:17AM)_  
**Bitty:** Parse, you have a very skillfully crafted façade. The way people think you are is not actually who you are. The person that you have shown to me, to Jack, and to Javier is who you really are. And who you really are, I’m sorry to say, is NOT a badass. You are tender and romantic and a bit of a shit, and you like getting your way but you’re working hard to make compromises. I know that’s hard for you, because compromising feels like a weakness, and you hate being weak. You’re used to dominating and owning people because it’s easier than being dominated and owned yourself. But I don’t think you’re trying to dominate him. I think you want it the other way around, and that’s the worst part for you—giving in, being vulnerable. But it’s okay to be vulnerable, even though it’s fucking hard. I have a feeling he will treat you with gentleness. _(8:21AM)_  
**Kent:** ugh I feel like I should pay you for that psychobabble you just gave me _(8:25AM)_  
**Bitty:** I love you too, Parse. Relax, and have a good day. Kick the shit out of Colorado. _(8:25AM)_

**

He kicks the shit out of Colorado and is back in Vegas quicker than he thought he’d be, staring at his empty penthouse and then down at the texts he’d been getting from Javier. He and Jacinda had just seen the Cirque du Soleil show and are having dinner at Wahlburgers, according to the selfie Javier has sent. They look so much alike, him and his mother, and the smile on his face as they snuggle together for the picture is breathtaking. 

Though Kent hasn’t responded much in the last week on his roadie, Javier hasn’t stopped texting him like normal. Kent admits to himself that he likes it, that Javier hasn’t given up on him.

So he texts back and says, _she is a beautiful lady indeed._

The response is instant: _OMG, I know!!!!! :D :D :D_

Kent, on a whim, asks if they’d like company. The response is slower and he chews at his thumbnail as he waits. But it’s a video coming in, with Javier and his mother giggling as she holds up a huge burger. “Come help me eat this, _mijo_!” she says. “ _Milagro_ says you have a big stomach!”

He makes sure Kit has plenty for dinner before heading out and almost forgetting his keys. 

 

Kent Parson has never been a big hugger. He’s gotten more used to it being on the Aces, with people recognizing him on the Strip and wanting pictures and grabbing at him, especially little kids who have no sense of personal space. But he lets Jacinda stand and give him a big tight hug, kisses on both his cheeks, and enthusiastic pats on his shoulders. She’s almost as tall as he is, and he had imagined someone much smaller.

“I am so excited for your hockey game,” she tells him, pushing her plate toward him. “Eat, you need energy. The meat is good for your big muscles.”

“ _Mamá_ ,” Javier says, and it sounds like a warning. Kent waves him off and takes a bite of the burger. Jacinda looks pleased. 

“I’m excited to have you there,” Kent says, after he’s swallowed. “I think you’ll have fun, it’s very fast-paced.”

She scoots her chair closer to him, completely ignoring Javier now. Javier only folds his arms across his chest and shakes his head, smiling. “You are the captain, yes? So you keep all the other boys in line?”

“I _try_ ,” he says, smiling at her. Trying to be warm and not charming. He wants to be sincere, and he is, sincerely, nervous. “Sometimes it’s not easy, but I try.”

The waiter comes by to check on the table and does a double take at him. He grins and wiggles his fingers. She nearly drops her pen. “What’s your name?” he asks her.

Her mouth snaps shut when she realizes she has it open. “Oh, um. I’m Dara.”

“Dara, hi, I’m Kent Parson.” He reaches out a hand to her for a shake, and her hand is trembling. “Nice to meet you. When you’ve got a chance, would you mind getting me a glass of water?”

“Oh—yeah, yeah, I can do that, yeah, sure, thanks. I mean, you’re welcome. I mean—yeah.” She looks at the other two, scarcely breathing. “Um. Can I get—do you need anything else?”

Jacinda tsks at Kent. “Look at you, flustering this poor girl with your pretty eyes!”

“I was trying to be nice!” Kent says, and now he’s blushing. He looks up at Dara. “I really was trying to be nice.”

“She knew who you were,” Jacinda says, waving a hand at him. “We’re okay, _mija_. Get this boy his water, and then he will give you an autograph.”

Dara stumbles away and Kent flushes harder as Jacinda and Javier both laugh. She leans into him and squeezes his shoulders. “You are cute, like a little cat. _Mi gatito_.”

“Okay,” Kent says, “I know what _that_ means, at least.”

She kisses his cheek, and he doesn’t miss the look in Javier’s eyes from way across the table—fond and warm, his smile small, his cheeks deeply pink.

 

 **@JMartinez7** I had a great time with my mom tonight! Cirque du Soleil, Whalburgers, time with @LegitKentParson. So worth it!! ow.ly/8e9P2j  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 I expected your mom to be super tiny  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson Everybody does, with that little voice she has XD She’s almost as tall as you!  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 I think she might have been taller if she’d have stretched actually  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson Nah—she was wearing heels. ;)  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 any plans for tomorrow  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson We are buying me a house!! I’ve been stuck in short-term housing but I’m finally getting my first house ever.  
**@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 ah nice, already have something in mind then?  
**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson I do! I’ll text you pictures, acere. Mamá is very excited to spend my money on decorations and furniture XD

When Javier calls him _homie_ in Cubano, it sometimes makes Kent grin. Like now. The pictures come in faster than Kent can respond on Twitter, so he responds to the texts instead.

 **Kent:** I like that house a lot, nice pool _(11:42PM)_  
**Javvy:** Me too! Easiest exercise for me to do for my knees is swimming, so I definitely need a pool. _(11:43PM)_  
**Kent:** it’s just you living there right _(11:43PM)_  
**Javvy:** Yeah? What, you think I’ve got a house boy hiding somewhere? ;) _(11:44PM)_  
**Kent:** haha no just a lot of bedrooms for one guy _(11:45PM)_  
**Javvy:** Acere, don’t be dumb. I have five sisters, four nephews, seven nieces, and about 30 cousins. I need more room than this but didn’t want it to be TOO big. _(11:47PM)_  
**Kent:** oh yeah, I forget that people have people _(11:47PM)_  
**Javvy:** Don’t worry, you have my mom. She adores you and says you are soooo funny mijo, he is hee-laaaaarious. She wants you to visit in El Paso over summer. _(11:49PM)_  
**Kent:** no way really _(11:49PM)_  
**Javvy:** She said you have lonely eyes and you need someone to feed you, so she’s decided that’s going to be her job. You can’t say no. I’m sorry, acere, but it’s impossible. _(11:50PM)_  
**Kent:** does she know about you _(11:51PM)_  
**Javvy:** Are you asking if she knows about my feelings for you? :) _(11:52PM)_

Kent makes himself a drink before responding.

 **Kent:** yeah. And just you in general with your, idk, interests in men? _(11:56PM)_  
**Javvy:** She’s known about me longer than I have. She said I always did love everyone I meet and find everyone beautiful. So she wasn’t surprised when I started telling her about this wonderful man I met. And yes, she knows. She’s supportive :) _(11:59PM)_  
**Kent** : nobody’s called me wonderful before. I mean Bitty has but he doesn’t count _(12:00AM)_  
**Javvy:** Of course he counts. You’ve shown him your heart. And Jack counts too. Don’t discredit them—they’re smart people, they know what they’re talking about. _(12:01AM)_

Kent can’t resist destroying himself when the opportunity presents itself. 

**Kent:** I think I’m still in love with Jack. _(12:01AM)_  
**Javvy:** He is a good man to be in love with :) _(12:01AM)_  
**Kent:** you aren’t mad? _(12:02AM)_  
**Javvy:** What should I be mad over? _(12:02AM)_  
**Kent:** you and Bitty are a lot alike. He asked me the same thing pretty much. Idk I feel like someone should be mad over this I guess. _(12:03AM)_  
**Javvy:** Do you want me to be mad? I’m good at throwing tantrums! I could throw one right now for you if you want me to ;) _(12:03AM)_  
**Kent:** now you’re making fun of me _(12:04AM)_  
**Javvy:** Never!! Okay, a little. I just want to make you smile and relax. You can love whoever you want, Kent. They deserve it. And I’m going to feel how I feel about you, because you deserve it. I’m good at loving. If you don’t want me to feel this way about you…I can try very hard not to, but I can’t make any promises. What I can promise is that nothing happens that you don’t want. You can tell me to stop at any time. But I would like to keep your friendship, if possible. Because I really like hanging out with you. Nobody else plays video games with me without complaining. _(12:09AM)_  
**Kent:** probably because I put up with hockey players so I can take your shit when you lose _(12:10AM)_  
**Javvy:** RUDE!!! _(12:10AM)_  
**Kent:** I like you so much. It scares me _(12:15AM)_  
**Javvy:** I know. It’s okay. Nothing you don’t want. _(12:15AM)_  
**Kent:** what about what I do want? I don’t know what to do about any of that _(12:16AM)_  
**Javvy:** What do you want, Kent? _(12:16AM)_  
**Kent:** you _(12:17AM)_  
**Javvy:** Then that’s easy. You’ve got me. :) What else? I’ll probably give you that too, honestly. My mom says I had a hard time making friends when I was little because I was so excited to be friends with everyone. I tended to push people away by accident for being too enthusiastic. I try really hard to reign it in, but sometimes it’s like it comes out in bursts and I can’t help it. This also means you can literally ask me for anything and the answer will probably be yes. _(12:20AM)_  
**Kent:** you get taken advantage of don’t you _(12:20AM)_  
**Javvy:** Oh yeah, a lot. _(12:21AM)_  
**Kent:** then why do you still do it? why be nice _(12:21AM)_  
**Javvy:** I don’t want to miss out on something good just because something bad happened. If that were the case, I would’ve never tried to talk to you. People like you have broken my heart before, but I trust that you won’t. I believe that everyone is good until they show me otherwise. _(12:22AM)_  
**Kent:** I could break your heart _(12:23AM)_  
**Javvy:** Of course you can. I’m trusting that you won’t. _(12:24AM)_  
**Kent:** but you shouldn’t trust me with something like that, you don’t know me well enough to do that _(12:25AM)_  
**Javvy:** I’m still getting to know you, and I’m still trusting you. _(12:25AM)_  
**Kent:** but I will probably break your heart, because that’s what I do _(12:26AM)_  
**Javvy:** I think what you do is push people away so they can’t get close enough to hurt you. I don’t think you break people’s hearts. I think you break your own. _(12:27AM)_

Kent stares at the text for too long, reading the words over and over again. Is that what he does? There’s no way. The way he treated Jack before, that wasn’t breaking his own heart—it was breaking Jack’s, on purpose, brutally and systematically. The competition they had was unhealthy, and every time Kent thinks about it, he tips more blame onto himself though Jack has said that they were different people then, that they were both harmful to the other in different ways. Jack has forgiven him, now, for that behavior, but Kent can’t forgive himself. He thinks about those words that Jack had so calmly said to him—things like manipulative, selfish, jealous. Yes, all of those fit him. That’s who he always seems to slide right back into given the littlest chance. Javier doesn’t know him. Javier should not be trusting him. 

**Javvy:** I care about you. I know this is a lot to think about, but above all else, I care about you. As a friend, as more, as whatever you want. I’m going to crash now, but maybe we can do something after the game tomorrow. You let me know. _(12:35AM)_

If Kent really cared about him as much as he thinks he does, he probably would let him go. But selfish is the most appropriate word for him and always has been, so he lets himself go to bed with Kit, reading and re-reading their texts over and over again, trying to pretend that something different could happen in another life, one where Kent grew up in a household more like Javier’s, with parents who knew how to talk to their kids. When was the last time he even spoke to his own parents? He can’t remember at all.

 **Kent:** I’m going to fail you because it’s what I do. I push and pick and poke until people get sick of me. Because everyone leaves eventually and I’d rather it be on my terms than yours. I’m not a very nice person and I never have been. I’m selfish and I manipulate people into doing what I want. Little things and big things. I don’t know how to be kind. I don’t know how to talk to people sincerely. I don’t like thinking of people trying to get to know me because it means they want something and if they want something they’re going to take something. I don’t want to give people anything. I don’t like who I am. I am still in love with Jack and I’m not. I don’t know where I am with him anymore but I can’t bear the thought of not loving him because it’s all I’ve known for so long. But maybe it’s not even love. I probably don’t know what that is. I will probably never find something like that. People like you deserve those things. People like me only destroy them. I think it might be best if we maybe don’t push this any further. I’m tired of ruining things. I don’t want you to be one of those things I ruin. And if you stay I will ruin you. _(1:02AM)_  
**Kent:** I’ll have your tickets for you and your mom at will call _(1:03AM)_  
**Kent:** I’m sorry _(1:10AM)_


	2. Chapter 2

**__**

winter continued

Kent wakes up to texts from Javier, which he expected. But the texts themselves are not what he thought they’d be, and he sits up in bed, reading them over as his stomach clenches and unclenches over and over again.

 **Javvy:** Okay, acere. It sounds like we need to have a real talk here. You don’t get to tell me what I think of you. What you’re doing is copping out on me, making it sound like you’re saving me or something from the big bad monster. Kent, you’re not a monster, you’re just a guy with issues. There’s like five billion of you on this planet already. You are not special. (You are, but not because of this.) I get to decide what happens to me. If I’m going to be ruined by someone, it’s because I made that CHOICE. I have free will. You can’t control my feelings, and I’m not going to let you. _(7:42AM)_  
 **Javvy:** If you think I don’t know you well enough to make this decision, then that’s on you. I want to get to know you, and I was pretty sure you wanted to get to know me. Part of friendship is good communication. If I’m not on the same page as you, let me know. I WANT to be on the same page, Kent. I want to know you better, if you’ll let me. But if you really, really don’t want me to, please tell me now. Because I’m falling for you hard, and I’m willing to navigate this with you no matter how hard it seems like it’s gonna be, but I really need your honesty right now. Brutal honesty, if that’s what it takes. _(7:50AM)_

It’s only after he’s done his morning run, had breakfast, and showered that he responds.

**Kent:** I really don’t think I’m worth any sort of effort, but I like you, I’d like to get to know you, and I could probably let you in a little even though it’s hard. I’m convinced you’ll run away _(11:13AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Then clearly you need to get to know me better. So where do we start? Do you want to stop hanging out in person maybe? Would that be better? _(11:20AM)_  
 **Kent:** no because I like your face but I have a hard time talking face to face, I can’t even do it with Bitty _(11:21AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Okay, got it. For what it’s worth, I like your face too. It’s a pretty good face. _(11:22AM)_

Kent smiles and spends the rest of his morning taking pictures of Kit stretched out and almost glowing white in the sunlight streaming through the tall windows.

**

They have dinner together after the game, but Kent spends most of his time talking to Jacinda and looking at baby pictures of the whole family on her phone. Javier wasn’t lying—he was a _tiny_ baby, which seems so impossible looking at him now. And Kent really, really likes looking at him. 

He talks with his hands, gesturing so big and wild that he’s a hazard to nearby glasses and occasionally will throw the fork in his hand by accident. Kent doesn’t know if it’s on purpose, per their earlier conversation, or if it’s a natural progression of the current conversation, but Javier is telling stories that Jacinda has to know already, which means those stories are for Kent’s benefit.

“So that’s when the bounce house started deflating,” Javier says, after Jacinda has moved his second glass of water since he sent the first flying. Kent has never been more grateful for plastic cups. “So you’ve got a bunch of little kids losing their minds, _acere_ , like they just start screaming and waving their arms, but they not _moving_. It was the funniest thing I ever saw, but after like thirty seconds, once all the parents stopped laughing too, they made me get the kids out.” 

Kent can’t help but to smile at him, head tilted as he tries to picture fifteen-year-old Javier, tall as a tree already but skinny like a bean pole, trying to rescue the kids he put in that predicament by sending an arrow into a bounce house to see what would happen. “Considering you caused their screaming in the first place, I don’t really blame them.”

“It was an experiment!”

“You put children’s lives at stake, Javvy. That’s not an experiment, that’s attempted murder.”

While Jacinda does her horse laugh—very similar to her son’s—Javier pouts and Kent grins at him. There’s an easiness between him that he likes, and he tells himself it’s okay to enjoy things, that sometimes he can have the things he wants, and it’s only after several moments of simply looking at Javier’s bright, open face that he realizes they haven’t looked away from one another. And Jacinda has noticed.

“Would you like some alone time?” she asks, and Kent thinks she’s teasing at first, but it’s clear she’s not—she’s giving her son adoring eyes, and Kent wonders if his own faces looks like hers, if he’s that obvious. Javier’s blush is like liquid fire on his face.

“No, no,” he says, and his eyes slip to the table, shy. “No, _mamá_ , that’s not necessary. Really.”

“I wouldn’t mind doing some gambling,” she says, elbowing him. “But if you don’t want to be alone, maybe _el capitán_ will gamble with me?”

In the end, Kent chooses to go gambling with Jacinda, though he makes sure he stands deliberately close to Javier, almost brushing, looking up at him often. Javier’s eyes are fiercely bright, and Kent can see what he meant before in his text, about pushing people away due to sheer exuberance. There’s something in the lines of his body that make Kent think he’s straining to keep his hands to himself, which is…exhilarating.

So Kent settles in the pull of his gravity just enough, and when Javier presses fingers to his back, light, as he shifts around him or moves him aside, Kent lets him. When Javier hip-checks him after Kent makes a horrible joke, Kent lets him. And when Jacinda makes a bathroom run and demands they _watch this machine, hijos_ , Javier’s eyes are hungry and wanting, and he reaches out, fingers trailing down Kent’s bare arm, and Kent lets him. 

Though now he’s looking away, unable to meet Javier’s terribly beautiful eyes, close enough to Javier to smell the scent of his cologne, a familiar scent because it’s the same one Bitty uses—Viktor & Rolf’s Spicebomb. On Javier, though, it’s got a deeper scent, something particularly inviting. Kent closes his eyes when he feels the palm on his back, not coaxing or pushing but resting. As though Javier can’t do anything else _but_ touch. 

“Is this okay?” Javier says, and his voice is so hushed it almost trembles. Kent nods, leans that slight inch closer. Feels the breadth of Javier’s chest against his shoulder. “Is this?” Javier asks, as he steps closer as well. They aren’t brushing anymore. There’s firm muscle to muscle, a slide of t-shirts. Kent nods. “And this?” Javier asks, fingers points of heat along Kent’s spine, up to the bare back of his neck. Kent nods.

Javier’s hand falls away and he steps back. “That’s good to know,” he says, and Kent is breathless.

**

**@TMZ** We have some very exclusive, very cozy pictures featuring a certain @LegitKentParson on what is clearly a hot date (PHOTO)  
 **@LegitKentParson** @TMZ daaaaaaaamn that’s the best I’ve ever looked on a creepy papshot, nice job folks  
 **@TMZ** .@LegitKentParson Do you want to tell our readers who your handsome new beau is?  
 **@LegitKentParson** @TMZ are you referring to @JMartinez7? we’re just #prosbeingbros  
 **@TMZ** .@LegitKentParson @JMartinez7 Mr. Parson, are you confirming your relationship with Mr. Martinez?  
 **@JMartinez7** @TMZ @LegitKentParson like he said, just #prosbeingbros  
 **@TMZ** .@JMartinez7 @LegitKentParson Can you please confirm if you are in a romantic relationship with Mr. Parson for our readers?  
 **@JMartinez7** @TMZ @LegitKentParson We’re having fun as #prosbeingbros!  
 **@TMZ** .@LegitKentParson Mr. Parson, can you please confirm if you are in a romantic relationship with Mr. Martinez for our readers?  
 **@LegitKentParson** @TMZ why, is #prosbeingbros not clear or  
 **@TMZ** .@LegitKentParson The staff would like to know if you’re fucking with us, Mr. Parson.  
 **@LegitKentParson** @TMZ :)

**@LegitKentParson** having a great video game day with @JMartinez7 #prosbeingbros  
 **@goofycindy** @LegitKentParson soooooo is this like a euphemism here for #galsbeingpals in which you actually do have this hottie as a bf  
 **@LegitKentParson** @goofycindy idk what you’re talking about we’re just hanging out the day before valentine’s day like normal regular buds  
 **@goofycindy** @LegitKentParson one day your epic sarcastic sass is going to end me, i just need you to know that  
 **@LegitKentParson** @goofycindy :)

**@JMartinez7** Since pitchers  & catchers report tomorrow, I am doing my damndest to teach @LegitKentParson about baseball, but he’s an awful student.  
 **@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 your sport is boring, that’s not my fault  
 **@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson Even after I showed you my sparkling strike-em-out-throw-em-out DP against Papi last year? It’s still boring???  
 **@bibliobaker** @JMartinez7 @LegitKentParson oh my God, Parse, what’s wrong with you, THOSE PLAYS ARE SO HOT???   
**@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker @JMartinez7 I mean it was okay? But my OT goal that won the Cup four years ago was better?  
 **@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson @bibliobaker Chico rudo :P  
 **@bibliobaker** @JMartinez7 Javier, I am so sorry you have to put up with @LegitKentParson. May God have mercy on your soul.  
 **@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker @JMartinez7 hey he likes me just fine, not his fault his sport is so boring  
 **@TMZ** .@LegitKentParson Are you ready to confirm your relationship with @JMartinez7 or are you going to continue to be ridiculous?  
 **@LegitKentParson** @TMZ idk why you guys don’t understand that we’re just #prosbeingbros @JMartinez7 :)

**@keshaswarriorgrl** @LegitKentParson u kno it would be rly nice if you could say if ur gay or not, i bet a lot of ppl would appreciate knowing their hero is gay  
 **@LegitKentParson** @keshaswarriorgrl do I have to be gay?  
 **@keshaswarriorgrl** @LegitKentParson if ur dating a guy ur gay, ur bff is jack zimmermann i thought u knew that  
 **@LegitKentParson** @keshaswarriorgrl I don’t think he’s gay. I am also not gay  
 **@keshaswarriorgrl** @LegitKentParson then why are you baiting with that whole #prosbeingbros crap, that is NOT fair to lgbt  
 **@LegitKentParson** @keshaswarriorgrl I never said I was straight, just that I’m not gay  
 **@LegitKentParson** @keshaswarriorgrl wait have I been lied to, is bisexuality fake?? Is that not the b in lgbt? Is the b for bees? Is god even real?

**@swimmerfann** Whoa, hold the phone. Did Parse just come out or am I deluded. I could be deluded. He’s a clever shit with wordplay.   
**@prettypaulie** @swimmerfann I CAN NEVER TELL IF HE IS FUCKING WITH US???  
 **@bibliobaker** @prettypaulie @swimmerfann Rules to Live By: He usually is. However, I don’t think Parse would queerbait…  
 **@prettypaulie** @bibliobaker @swimmerfann I mean, we know how he feels about the press, he’s always harassing them…  
 **@LegitKentParson** @prettypaulie @bibliobaker @swimmerfann I don’t understand why #prosbeingbros is so hard to understand  
 **@swimmerfann** @LegitKentParson @prettypaulie @bibliobaker I imagine you rubbing your hands and cackling evilly when you tweet shit like this.  
 **@JMartinez7** @swimmerfann @LegitKentParson @prettypaulie @bibliobaker Can confirm, this is 100% true. 

Kent grins over at Javier, who has put his phone down and returned to his _Fallout_ game. “You’ll like Paulie and Maggie. They’re super nice.”

“They seem like it,” Javier says, as he works on clearing debris in Sanctuary. “You should invite all of them down for some games once hockey’s over.”

“Yeah? That’d be fun. Bitty and Jack are like best friends with them and everything, and I bet they’d like you a lot.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. You’re likable.” It’s the most he’ll allow himself to say out loud, but the side-eyed smile he gets from Javier for it is worth it. 

They play for another hour, Javier doing all the things in the game Kent doesn’t want to do (which is most of the game), then they have dinner—Javier cooking in Kent’s kitchen and singing slightly off-key to the Cuban music playing from Kent’s Pandora. Kent drinks about six glasses of water while he eats his _pernil relleno de moros y cristianos_. He has a hard time pronouncing it, but eating it is easy, even though it’s so spicy his mouth wants to burst into flames. All through dinner Javier chats about the upcoming season, but something in his words are forced. He’s nervous. Kent has learned his tell—which is eye contact. Javier is great at it unless he’s nervous.

“So you’re going to Arizona for six weeks,” Kent says, “and you’ll be gone the entire six weeks, right?”

“Yep. Down at the new park in Chandler. Then we’re heading to New York for the season opener, then Chicago, then LA. We’ll be home for our first home opener on Thursday April sixteenth.”

Kent thinks about that for a long moment. Nearly two months. He’s taken road trips during the time they’ve known each other, of course, but he hasn’t spent longer than a week without Javier. Now he has to spend eight. Alone. Without him.

“Can’t I come see you play in spring training?” Kent asks, trying—and failing—for casual. His heart is a riot in his chest. Javier takes longer to respond than usual.

“Sure, if you want. I can text you the schedule. It’s already up on the website.” He won’t make eye contact, pushing his pork around his plate. “We aren’t going to have a lot of fans yet, if any, so a loud friendly voice would be welcome.”

“Do you want me to come see you?”

Javier swallows visibly. “I always want you to come see me.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They finish their dinner and Kent takes care of cleanup, even though Javier hovers around him and says he can do it. Kent only waves him off and gets the dishwasher started. When he’s done, he turns to Javier, closes the few feet of space between them, and reaches out to fit his hands to Javier’s waist. Javier’s hands come up, maybe in surprise, but he doesn’t touch back, simply hovers his palms somewhere near Kent’s shoulders as though he doesn’t know if he can touch or not. Kent simply looks at him. Javier looks away.

“I’ll miss you,” Kent says, and Javier nods, his throat straining as he swallows. Kent moves his hands to Javier’s shoulders, then his neck. His skin is warm and smooth and a perfect, burnished bronze. His collarbones stand in stark relief, the pulse in his throat reminding Kent of a nervous hammer. “Will you miss me?” Kent asks, fingertips touching the little curl of hair that always hovers over Javier’s left ear.

“Yes.” He nods. “Yes, of course.”

With effort, and courage, Kent takes half a step back and removes his hands. “That’s good to know,” he says, and Javier’s eyes meet his own now. They are hungry—starving, even—and he flexes his fingers into fists and straightens them out again. Kent is balancing on the edge of _something_ , and he says nothing, makes no jokes, does not try to diffuse the obvious tension hanging between them. He wants to see what Javier will do, and more than that, he wants to see how bold his gut feels in this moment.

But Javier either disappoints him or relieves him, he’s not sure which, when he takes a step back himself. His chest flutters with effort. “Kent, I need—I have to ask—please don’t play games with me. Because I wasn’t playing games with you—I was just, I was trying—I wanted to see—I just was—”

Sparing his stutters, Kent says, “I’m not playing. I was testing too. Myself, and you.” He clears his throat, his courage extinguishing in his chest and leaving an empty space he might not have ever known was even there. “Um, did you want—maybe we could watch a movie? If you don’t need to leave yet?”

Javier’s hand runs over the wild dark curls of his hair. He’s flushed, and looking askance, and his lashes are so thick they look unreal. “I, um. I’m really nervous.”

Kent’s Spanish is getting better, so he says, “ _Yo también_.”

The curve of Javier’s neck is a blessing and a curse, and Kent wants to put his mouth to that rapid pulse there and see what else he can make Javier’s body do. “Kent, please. You make me crazy. Please.”

“Please what?”

“I don’t know. Stop or go further, one of the two, but please don’t dangle me like this. I can’t take it.”

Kent wants to do something bold and unexpected, but he chickens out. Wonders if Javier means it. Thinks about the fact that though they have shared more and more, Kent still has not given the deeper layers of himself. He is a fucking parfait, and all he’s given of himself is the top shitty layer that doesn’t even offer any flavor. “I do kind of like to tease,” he says, and he doesn’t know what he’s saying even as he says it, his mind blissfully or unfortunately blank. “Just a little. I like to see you want me. It makes me feel better, like I’m not imagining the whole thing.”

Javier is literally looking at anything but Kent’s eyes. They roam all over him like they’re drinking him in. “You are not imagining anything,” he says, his voice small. “I am crazy over you.”

“I just like to see it. Even though it makes me nervous.”

“Well, here it is.” He scratches the back of his head, his fingers visibly trembling. “Christ almighty, here it is.”

Taking pity on both of them, Kent changes the subject. It’s an obvious change, but Javier seems relieved by it. When they settle on the couch, Kent has a moment of nostalgia as he thinks back to his sixth grade dance, where the nuns came by to make sure there was at least a foot of space between him and his dance partners. _You need to leave room for Jesus_ , they said. Now, Kent thinks there’s room for Jesus, Mary, _and_ Joseph between him and Javier, but he’s not sure how to broach the distance after requesting it in the first place.

They watch _Star Wars_ because it’s a favorite of both of theirs, and Kent walks Javier to the door. Eight weeks. He’ll _have_ to make a trip down to Arizona to see him before then. Kent doesn’t know if he can go eight weeks without Javier’s lovely warmth near him.

“See you soon, _acere_ ,” Javier says, and he gives a little wiggle-wave with his fingers before he’s down the hallway and around the corner.

Kent texts him shortly thereafter: _what’s the phrase, hate to see you go but I love watching your incredible ass sashay down my hallway?_

He gets a response when he’s already tucked into bed, Javier sending him multiple blushing emojis and a simple _Good night, cariño._

**

Less than a week later, after what has to be a hundred snaps back and forth that allow Kent to push himself out of “cocky and aloof” and into “comfortably and consistently flirty,” he’s not surprised to get a FaceTime request from Jack. Settled in his Chicago hotel room for the evening after beating the Blackhawks 3-1, Kent takes it and makes sure the first thing Jack sees is Kit. 

“I’m sorry,” Kent says, waving Kit’s paw at him, “but Kent Parson isn’t in right now. Please leave a message with the se- _cat_ -ary.”

“Haha,” Jack says, his monotone more monotone-y than usual. “That is soooo funny and brand new, you’ve never done that before ever.”

Kent looks over Kit’s twitching ears. “What’s up?”

“So I know you’ve been sassy on Twitter,” Jack says, “but I have a suspicion that you actually have feelings for Javier. Care to confirm?”

“If I didn’t tell TMZ, why would I tell you?”

Jack huffs. His hair is wet from a shower, and in the background of his apartment, Kent can hear Bitty doing something in the kitchen. “Because I’m your best friend?”

Kent likes hearing those words, so he lets them settle in the digital air between them before responding. “What did your boy tell you?”

“That it was none of my business and I wouldn’t hear anything from him and that I should ask you. So I’m asking.”

Shrugging, Kent waves his hand. “Oh, you know. Pros being bros.”

“Cute. Kenny. Please tell me?”

Kent chews on his thumbnail for a moment, Jack’s pixelated face soft and earnest. Kent has known and loved that face longer than he has anything else in his life. And yet. “I don’t know, Jack.”

“What don’t you know?”

“Anything.”

Jack’s smile is tender. “Kenny, I think you really like him.”

“I don’t like thinking about it sometimes.”

“Why not?”

“Makes it too real.” His phone, propped next to Kit’s little feet, buzzes. It’s a snap from Javier. Kent’s heart tilts. “When things are real, they break.”

“They don’t have to,” Jack says, and his voice takes on that tone he gets when he’s thinking about things his therapist has already told him. “You can let yourself enjoy things, and trust people. I think he’s earned your trust.”

Shrugging, Kent unlocks his phone and looks at Javier’s snap—a beautiful shot of him and two of his teammates (Kent hasn’t learned all their names yet and he doesn’t recognize these two) at In-N-Out burger. The caption reads _WISH YOU WERE HERE!!!!!_ “You should come visit this summer. So you can meet him.”

“Is that like introducing your boyfriend to your parents?” Jack says, lips tilted.

“Gross,” Kent says. “I’m not calling you daddy.”

There’s a sound like a goose honking, and Kent realizes it’s Bitty; in the background, just beyond Jack’s shoulder, he’s doubled over and laughing so hard that Kent can’t help but to laugh with him. 

**

**Javvy:** Good morning!! I’m having a mimosa for breakfast. It’s definitely not on my diet plan. _(7:14AM)_  
 **Kent:** you have a diet plan _(7:21AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Only in the most absurd definition of the word ‘diet,’ tbh. How’s Kit? _(7:22AM)_  
 **Kent:** she’s good. Misses you _(7:23AM)_  
 **Javvy:** I think she just misses me because there’s so much real estate for her to sit on. _(7:23AM)_  
 **Kent:** hahaha that’s exactly it. I miss you too _(7:24AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Same. I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in two weeks. I feel like a moron. _(7:26AM)_  
 **Kent:** why a moron _(7:26AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Because I don’t want to be clingy but I would love to hug you. _(7:26AM)_  
 **Kent:** I’d let you hug me _(7:28AM)_  
 **Javvy:** I give great hugs!!!! _(7:28AM)_  
 **Kent:** I believe it :) tell me something true _(7:29AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Something true about the world, me, or you? _(7:29AM)_  
 **Kent:** something true about me _(7:30AM)_  
 **Javvy:** When you find something really funny, you put your hand to your mouth as you laugh. It happened like twelve times during 22 Jump Street. It’s very cute. _(7:31AM)_  
 **Kent:** that movie is fucking funny _(7:32AM)_  
 **Javvy:** I could tell ;) _(7:33AM)_  
 **Kent:** tell me something true about you _(7:34AM)_  
 **Javvy:** I was 14 before I lost my last baby tooth. I had to get it surgically taken out because the adult tooth was coming like sideways out of my gums, it was awful. _(7:36AM)_  
 **Kent:** tell me something true about you that’s not totally gross _(7:36AM)_  
 **Javvy:** XDDDD Okay then, did you know that I wear concealer almost every day? _(7:38AM)_  
 **Kent:** no way really _(7:39AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Yep. Dem bags is dark and I like looking pretty. I use Becca Ultimate Coverage Concealing Cream and I tap a bit of MUFE finishing powder on top to hold. _(7:41AM)_  
 **Kent:** I literally never noticed, you always look kind of amazing _(7:42AM)_  
 **Javvy:** I LOVE MAKEUP. Seriously, I really do. I get my eyebrows waxed too. _(7:43AM)_  
 **Kent:** see I thought you did, they look too perfect otherwise. Does waxing hurt, I should get mine done huh _(7:45AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Only if you want to! Nobody should feel like they HAVE to do anything. I just like being pretty :) _(7:45AM)_  
 **Kent:** you are very pretty _(7:47AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Thanks, I was fishing for that ;) I miss you, Kent. A lot. _(7:49AM)_  
 **Kent:** I miss you too, a lot. I’ll be down when I can so I can see a game or two, I’ll have three days off before Boston so I’ll come down then _(7:50AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Just let me know when to expect you so I can control my chill. Don’t you dare surprise me, I’ll freak out like a kid on Christmas. _(7:52AM)_  
 **Kent:** :) _(7:55AM)_  
 **Javvy:** KENT, NO. DON’T. _(7:56AM)_  
 **Kent:** :) :) _(7:56AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Ugh, you are such a menace  <3 _(7:57AM)_  
 **Kent:** thank you for noticing, appreciate it :) _(7:58AM)_

**

**Javvy:** When are you flying in??? _(1:14PM)_  
 **Kent:** who fucking spilled _(1:15PM)_  
 **Javvy:** I’m not a snitch. _(1:16PM)_  
 **Kent:** that fucking librarian I should have known _(1:16PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Don’t you be mean to Bitty! He just thought my Twitter had been sad the last week and wanted to cheer me up. I’m cheered. _(1:17PM)_  
 **Kent:** are you? _(1:18PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Well, obviously. It’s been four weeks, Kent. Of course I’m cheered at the thought of seeing you in person. _(1:19PM)_  
 **Kent:** then turn around _(1:21PM)_

It’s completely worth every minute of frustration and planning, every moment on a cramped plane stuck in coach with other human beings, for the look of absolute shock on Javier’s face as he turns, eyes searching, before they land on Kent. He’s by himself at the hotel restaurant for lunch, so Kent doesn’t have to share this with anyone else.

He drops into the chair directly next to Javier, setting down his backpack and his cat carrier, Kit dozing after their flight. “Hey.”

Javier’s face does complicated things then, and Kent is becoming fluent in his expressive, silent language as their eyes meet. Javier is shaking, his hands clenched into fists on the table. “I told you not to surprise me,” he says, looking away, flushing, biting his lip, swallowing, shaking his hair out of his face, quick little gestures that tell Kent so much more than Javier dares to say aloud. 

“Technically it’s not a surprise,” Kent points out, leaning over into Javier’s space—Javier straightens his spine and holds his breath—to steal some of the fruit off his plate. “You knew I’d be here thanks to Mr. Hermione Granger.”

Javier’s eyes aren’t just brown. When Kent looks close, when they have been this close, he notices there are three or four different shades there—a deep mahogany, sort of a reddish circle on the outside, and a honey brown mixed with hazel swirling in the middle. Kent has never paid attention to another person’s eyes the way he does with Javier.

“Did you get your eyebrows waxed?” Javier asks, those eyes of his flicking up toward Kent’s forehead.

“Yeah. That was a certain kind of hell I never want to go through again, honestly.”

“Dude, you play hockey.”

“I know. They should make eyebrow waxing part of a fighting penalty.” 

They fall quiet again, simply looking at one another. Or, in Javier’s case, looking at everything but Kent’s eyes. Kent reaches out and settles a hand to Javier’s shoulder. “Relax,” he says, though inside he’s boiling, a volcano of need and desire and yearning making itself insistently known. Kent is going to lose it soon, he can feel it, but he staunchly pushes it down, down, down because he doesn’t know how else to deal with himself. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

“You’re a problem, _acere_.” He looks down at his plate and takes a breath. “Wow, you’re here. Okay. Good.”

“I said I’d let you hug me,” Kent says, pulling his hand away now, though his fingers ache to touch the soft curls at the nape of Javier’s neck. “I’d like it if you did.”

“Maybe not here,” Javier says, pushing his plate away. “Um, maybe somewhere else. I’m—I’d be really obvious in front of people.”

“Obvious about what?”

A sigh. “How much I want you.”

Kent remembers the way Javier’s waist felt under his palms, the warmth of his skin, the skitter of his pulse in his strong neck. He remembers how badly he wanted to raise up on his toes, to bring his mouth to that mouth. To _this_ mouth, a foot away from him, plush-lipped and wide and sweet. Kent says, “I want you too,” and gets so flustered by the sound of the words leaving his throat that he stands, hefting his backpack over his shoulder and picking up Kit’s carrier. “I’m staying in the penthouse tonight and tomorrow night. Then I’m flying out to Boston.”

“I can pick up your tickets,” Javier says, and the back of his neck is reddened from the sun, from Kent, or both. “Game is at 7:05 tonight. I start warming up around five, so…I mean, I have some time free if you’re hungry, or…if you want…I mean, I can show you the field, but…you’ll be seeing it tonight anyway so that’s kind of stupid, um—”

“Food would be good,” Kent interrupts, because if he doesn’t, Javier may stutter himself into an early grave. “But maybe not here. Your stupid snap of In-N-Out made me hungry. Take me there?”

Javier stands. Kent is startled, yet again, by how incredibly tall and broad-chested he is—and how the shirt he’s wearing, dark red with the words _Back in my day, we had nine planets_ across it, fits him almost too tight. Kent swallows. Doesn’t reach out, doesn’t touch. But he thinks about it. 

They eat at In-N-Out, take pictures of one another for Twitter, and talk unhurriedly about baseball, the weather, Kit, and how the Aces are probably not making playoffs this year.

“You guys did great last year,” Javier says. Kent can’t stop looking at his fingers as they trace the lid of his milkshake. His nails are cut down short and painted neon yellow, which he says makes it more visible for his pitchers. “And you won the Cup the year before that. You’ll get it again, I don’t have worries about that.”

“I’m tired,” Kent admits, as he finishes Javier’s fries for him. “I can’t play the game the way I used to. I’m kind of relieved I can stop after the regular season.”

“Might need some new conditioning,” Javier says, brows drawn as he thinks. “The older you get, the more you have to change to fit the game. More days off, maybe, you know? Nothing to be ashamed of. Just means you gotta work a bit differently.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He exhales. “I always loved hockey, but not the way Jack loves it. I honestly thought he’d marry his stick if he could.”

Javier snorts. “I still wouldn’t put it past him, honestly.”

“Bitty would let him, too. Gross.”

Grinning, Javier tilts his head, eyes bright, curls falling across his forehead. “So when they do finally get married, can we convince Bitty to wear a garter with little hockey sticks and pucks on it?”

The image is so perfect that Kent makes a note in his notepad about it. They talk for a few more minutes after that about the inevitable Bittle/Zimmermann wedding, their suggestions getting increasingly more ridiculous until Kent is covering his mouth as he laughs at the thought of the Stanley Cup being the topping on the wedding cake.

Once he’s settled down, he says, “Come here and take a selfie with me for Twitter.” They’ve done selfies before, but as Javier slides closer, Kent nudges him. “Both arms around me. Get in close.” Javier’s eyebrows raise, but he scoots in. “Closer. Closer than that.” They bump temples. Javier smells like Spicebomb. Kent is in a cocoon of warmth and big arms, completely enveloped. “There.”

“Twitter will freak,” Javier murmurs, and his breath is warm across Kent’s cheek.

“I know.”

“You want that?”

“A little. I also just wanted you to touch me.”

Javier says something in Spanish then that’s too fast and too unknown for Kent to pick up. And here he thought he knew all of Javier’s usual swears. “You will be the death of me.”

“Hopefully not,” Kent says, raising his phone. The two of them look like lovers onscreen together, the adoration evident in Javier’s eyes even on the front-facing camera. “There.”

**

**@BuzzFeed** If this isn’t an engagement announcement photo, we really don’t know what is: bzfd.it/39z2P78  
 **@TMZ** @BuzzFeed What’s their ship name? We’re liking Kavier. #kavier #callingit  
 **@BuzzFeed** .@TMZ Funny you should ask…we’re offering a poll! Bzfd.it/29A00unV

**@bibliobaker** Personally, @LegitKentParson  & @JMartinez7, I like Javient. It sounds ~fancy.  
 **@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker @JMartinez7 ew no way it sounds like a medication  
 **@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson @bibliobaker …yeah, Bitty, it sounds like a drug for excessive constipation.  
 **@bibliobaker** @JMartinez7 @LegitKentParson RUDE (but also right, ugh, your ship name is so hard)  
 **@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker @JMartinez7 when we figure it out it’s gonna be cuter than #zimbits that’s for sure

**@TMZ** @LegitKentParson Are you ready to confirm, Mr. Parson. #partinez?? #itshappening  
 **@LegitKentParson** @TMZ confirm what how excited I am for pacific rim 2?  
 **@TMZ** @LegitKentParson Is this or is this not canoodling: View on Vine  
 **@LegitKentParson** @TMZ what is your definition of canoodling  
 **@TMZ** @LegitKentParson Per Merriam-Webster: to hug and kiss another person in a sexual way.   
**@LegitKentParson** @TMZ what is your definition of sexual  
 **@TMZ** @LegitKentParson You’re trying our patience, Mr. Parson.  
 **@LegitKentParson** @TMZ good #prosbeingbros

**@JackZimmermann** why hasn’t anyone considered #partini as the ship name? It sounds pretty Vegas-y to me.  
 **@bibliobaker** @JackZimmermann Holy crap, did you just contribute to social media in a significant way? I’m shocked.  
 **@JackZimmermann** @bibliobaker hey, I do things sometimes.  
 **@bibliobaker** @JackZimmermann You broke Twitter. The official ship name is now #partini thanks to you.  
 **@JackZimmermann** @bibliobaker haha cool

**@JMartinez7** Should I change my username now? JMartini7? HAHAH I’m laughing so hard  
 **@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 look at my new pic  
 **@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson LMAO. I had no idea Partini was an actual game #partini  
 **@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 we should play it as soon as you’re back home  
 **@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson Not long now!! #OpeningDay2K18 coming up!!!  
 **@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 baseball is still really really boring  
 **@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson Awww, I miss you too, Kent.

**

**Kent:** how much longer again _(11:43PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Just two more weeks and I’m home. _(11:44PM)_  
 **Kent:** I miss you so much _(11:44PM)_  
 **Javvy:** I know, I miss you too. It’s okay. I’ll be home really soon. _(11:45PM)_  
 **Kent:** I don’t do this ever, I don’t know why I’m doing it now _(11:47PM)_  
 **Javvy:** That’s okay! New things can be good things :) I won’t hurt you, Kent. I really won’t. _(11:47PM)_  
 **Kent:** I believe you _(11:48PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Will you let me hug you again? _(11:49PM)_  
 **Kent:** I need you to so yes _(11:50PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Good, that’ll get me through. Can I admit something to you? _(11:51PM)_  
 **Kent:** you can always tell me anything _(11:52PM)_  
 **Javvy:** I’m so nervous about this upcoming season that our team doc prescribed me mild sleeping pills. I can’t sleep through the night, and when I do, I have nightmares. I’m not complaining about the attention you’ve put on the Scorpions because we’re rolling with it here (btw, they’re introducing a Partini t-shirt for Opening Day), but nobody’s ever paid a whit of attention to me before, and suddenly I’m getting stopped for autographs when I’m coming out of the bathroom. Just. Unexpected, and I’m really worried I can’t live up to the expectations, especially with this awful ST we’ve had. _(11:59PM)_  
 **Kent:** pre season is not the best indicator for reg season. Case in point the Aces, we killed pre season and now I have all summer to spend with you while Jack gets to try for the fucking cup, I’m not bitter I swear _(12:00AM)_  
 **Javvy:** :( I’m sorry, cariño. I know you guys have several more Cups in you!!!!  <3 I guess I’m worried, since I hit .179 with four passed balls. Not really the most positive first impression :/ _(12:01AM)_  
 **Kent:** realistically you guys are gonna suck this year. I speak from experience being an expansion team. It’s totally fine, you have many many years ahead of you. What you need to be focusing on right now is team building more than anything. It’s important that all of you have fun and people see you having fun. You can’t let other people’s pressure get to you. _(12:05AM)_  
 **Kent:** P.S., look who misses you too _(12:05AM)_  
 **Javvy:** !!! Gosh, I miss that little face hahaha. I love her new collar. _(12:06AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Also, thank you. You’re right. I’m going to try to focus on my new team. We’re getting along really well so far. A few of them have asked if “I’m serious” with the whole “Captain of the Aces” thing. I’ve said yes. I hope that’s okay. I mean, to clarify, I said yes I’m serious about you, but the Twitter stuff is mostly to piss off angry heterosexuals and homophobes. _(12:07AM)_  
 **Kent:** you do know that even though we’re pissing off angry heterosexuals and homophobes I am dead serious on twitter right _(12:08AM)_  
 **Javvy:** I may not have considered that, no. _(12:08AM)_  
 **Kent:** I am dead serious on twitter _(12:09AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Well. Okay then. _(12:10AM)_  
 **Kent:** are you blushing _(12:11AM)_  
 **Javvy:** No, not at all. _(12:12AM)_  
 **Kent:** I can’t believe you’re lying to me after all we’ve been through _(12:12AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Oh, stop it. I have to go to bed now. Thank you for talking me down. That overenthusiastic thing I have is also an anxiety problem as well, but I appreciate your thoughts. You’re totally right. _(12:13AM)_  
 **Kent:** Jack takes meds for his anxiety, is that something that would help you _(12:14AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Team doc and I are discussing it. We’re trying behavioral therapy first to see if that helps. Then medication. _(12:14AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Do you think I’m nuts? Sometimes I think I’m nuts. _(12:15AM)_  
 **Kent:** I used to think shrinks were nuts, but Jack’s better and you’re good and well adjusted or whatever so if it helps you be happy I’m all for it _(12:15AM)_  
 **Javvy:** You could do with some therapy yourself, cariño. Just someone to talk to who will listen to you. _(12:16AM)_  
 **Kent:** nah I’ve got you (12:16AM)  
 **Javvy:** I am not a substitute for a therapist, don’t try to be cute. _(12:17AM)_  
 **Kent:** you love it when I’m cute _(12:19AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Only sometimes. Good night  <3333 _(12:20AM)_  
 **Kent:** night _(12:20AM)_  
 **Kent:** miss you a lot _(12:21AM)_  
 **Kent:** can’t wait to see you asap _(12:25AM)_

**@LegitKentParson** things are starting to look up a bit, who woulda thought


	3. Chapter 3

**__**

spring

The knock on Kent’s door sends him hurtling off the couch like he’s been electrocuted. Then he deliberately waits thirty seconds before answering, because he can’t bear looking flustered, even though he has recently sent a text to Javier that completely belies any facade of coolness he might have previously had.

When he opens the door, Javier pushes his way in, crowding Kent’s much-beloved personal space, and cupping a hand at the back of his neck. Their foreheads press together, and Kent doesn’t _clutch_ at Javier’s shirt, per se, but he _grips tightly_. They breathe, silent. Kent tries not to shake, but Javier’s got fine little earthquakes all along his skin.

“I’m here,” Kent says, hushed. “I’m right here.”

“I know. Thank God. I know.”

Javier isn’t wearing his usual cologne. His neck smells like cucumber soap, and Kent presses his face there, holding, breathing him in. He’s so relieved that he doesn’t move from his entryway for several long, warm seconds, Javier’s hands pressed to his back, then curling up in his hair, then down again. When they part, Javier’s eyes are averted, his cheeks inflamed like a sunburn. 

“Did you bring an overnight bag?” Kent asks, trying to keep his breathing under control. Javier nods, indicating the backpack still on his shoulder that Kent hadn’t even noticed.

“Yep. I also brought _Mass Effect_ for us to play tonight, since tomorrow is a night game.”

Kent doesn’t say anything about the Scorpions’ 0-10 record, and neither does Javier. Instead, as Kit makes herself known with the longest whine in the history of the world, Javier drops to his knees and reaches for her, curling her up close to his chest and murmuring soft things in Spanish that Kent can’t quite make out. So Kent goes to the kitchen to heat up some queso, then turns on the TV on for a long night of gaming distractions. 

Kent tries not to think about the fact that Javier is staying over—in the guest room, but still, in Kent’s apartment. All night long. That Kent will lay under sheets in a few hours and know that Javier’s bones and muscles and curling hair are twenty feet away. He wonders if Javier snores, or how he sleeps. Does he use one pillow or two? Does he curl up in a ball like Kent does, or is he one of those unselfconscious sprawlers?

Only one person has ever stayed in Kent’s bed all night long before, but Kent wouldn’t mind making it two, if only he could get his stupid brain under control enough. Sometimes he feels like he has two different personalities that are constantly at war—and another third personality with Jack, and a fourth with Bitty. Sometimes Kent doesn’t know which one is really him, and it frustrates him further when he can’t figure out what he needs to show to Javier to be his most honest. 

“Ready to play?” Javier asks, easing his backpack onto one end of the couch, where he usually sits. He takes the middle cushion instead. Leaving Kent just enough space to sit down.

_Slow and steady_ , he reminds himself. Javier said none of this is a race, and that Kent is perfectly fine to do things his own way, in his own time. It has been nearly five months, and Kent sits next to Javier on the couch, their knees bumping, then hips, then shoulders. Javier hands him the controller and they turn on the game, sitting quietly together while the content loads onto the Xbox.

“I’m pretty low,” Javier says, and he’s twisting his fingers together in that way Kent has seen Jack do. Without thinking, Kent covers Javier’s hands with his own, until Javier stills and squeezes him back. “I feel like we can’t catch a break.”

“You guys suck,” Kent says, resting his head, with daring, on Javier’s shoulder. “I mean, it really is to be expected. You’re doing exactly what’s expected to you. There’s that at least, right? You’re on track.”

Javier snorts. “I appreciate your disgusting optimism.” He leans his own head into Kent’s. His hair smells like flowers. “But not winning a single game, getting swept in three series…I don’t know. And me, I’m not doing much.”

Kent understands baseball enough to care when Javier is on his screen. “You’re not doing awful, though.”

“You’re sweet. I can only hope it gets better for the next hundred and fifty-two games.” He pulls away then, just enough to straighten his spine and sigh. He doesn’t take his hands away from Kent’s, though, and now, instead of twisting his own fingers, he curls them around Kent’s, rhythmic, spreading his palms and testing all of his strong bones, fingertips on callouses. “I still can’t sleep at night.”

“Have you been taking your sleeping pills?”

“No, I weaned off of them because I was afraid of needing them too much. Mainly I just have to hope I’m exhausted enough. Seems like it’s the only way I’ve been able to drop off.”

Kent can think of about forty-six things he could do to Javier to make sure he’s exhausted enough, but he says none of them. (He does, however, ponder over several). “What about natural remedies? Warm milk, chamomile tea?”

“I’d eat a lizard right now if it would help me sleep,” Javier says, and when Kent says _ew_ , Javier laughs. “I mean, not really. Okay, that’s a lie, yes, I’d probably eat a lizard if it would help me sleep. Just a little one!”

They untangle when the game is ready to play, but Javier doesn’t go far. They’re still shoulder to shoulder, and during load screens, Kent puts his head on Javier’s shoulder and closes his eyes. By the third load screen, Javier has begun to play with his hair, fingers light and tentative, and Kent can’t hear his own heartbeat when he usually can, loud and nervous as it is. Now, he’s simply calm. 

Shortly before two, as Kent is taking the time to upgrade his weapons and waiting for the save to go through, he eases against Javier and is pleased when one big hand comes up to play with his hair. It’s so natural now, this intimacy. He’s losing his cageyness with it and finds it enjoyable.

“Kent? May I ask you something?”

“Mmm.” He hasn’t said much as the evening wore on because he didn’t need to; neither of them did, simply speaking through touch instead.

“May I kiss you?”

Kent raises his head and looks into Javier’s eyes (which look away), and then at his mouth. He has full lips, Cupid’s bow prominent. His lips always look slightly damp because he has a LUSH lip balm he’s obsessed with. When Kent is close, like this, he finds Javier’s mouth smells invitingly of honey and vanilla. He doesn’t know what to say. _Yes, yes, don’t be an idiot, say yes_ , one Kent says, and the other one shies away into his little box, quietly closing the doors. He doesn’t know what to do, looking instead over Javier’s impossibly handsome face, all the sharp lines and ski-jump nose, the brown skin burnished from the sun, his heavy and immaculately groomed brows, those lashes, those _eyes_. He could’ve been a movie star if he didn’t go for baseball. 

“You can say no,” Javier says, and his hand finds Kent’s, lacing their fingers together. “You can always tell me no.” 

“No,” Kent says, though even as he says it, he has no idea if he means it. He wants to be kissed, so badly. He doesn’t know why something so simple seems so unreasonably frightening, and he hates himself a little for it. 

“Okay,” Javier says, squeezing his hand and reaching for the controller. “I think I’m finally getting tired, but can I show you something I found when I was playing in LA last night?”

Kent stops him, staring at him. This cannot be real. People don’t tolerate refusals like this. _Kent_ wouldn’t tolerate a refusal like this. “You’re not mad at me?”

Javier shakes his head. He’s looking at Kent now, meeting his eyes. He seems to be struggling too, but he’s doing it. “No, of course not. If I get mad after I told you it was okay to say no, what kind of a person would that make me?”

“I don’t know, human?”

“No, Kent. I said you could say no, and I meant it. I’m _obviously_ disappointed as hell, but I’m not mad. I’m just going to keep waiting, just in case one day you say yes.”

“If I don’t?”

Javier shrugs. “I’m still going to keep hoping. You can’t take hope away from me. I’m going to have it no matter what.”

Softening, Kent nudges him. “So you have hope for me, but not for your own baseball season.”

Javier’s blush is devastating. “…Shut up.”

Kent teases him a little more after that, they take a fairly innocuous but obviously ruffled and sleepy selfie that Kent posts with #prosbeingbros on Twitter, and then Kent gets to watch as Javier moves his big body through Kent’s hallway and into the guest bedroom, shutting the door behind him after saying, quietly, _good night, acere_.

In his own room, Kent gets off twice before he’s sated enough to sleep.

**

**@bibliobaker** !!!! Oh my God I’m gonna die, @JMartinez7 just hit a three-run shot to win the game and I may or may not be screaming incoherently?  
 **@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker hahaha pretty rad huh  
 **@bibliobaker** @LegitKentParson Are you there at the game?!  
 **@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker haha yeah look at my sweet seats ow.ly/j09Fp3  
 **@bibliobaker** @LegitKentParson Okay, hold the phone—you’ve been at his game all night and you haven’t tweeted ONCE?  
 **@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker look I was trying to pay attention to what was going on and not look horrifically bored  
 **@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker I did snap Jack a few times  
 **@bibliobaker** @LegitKentParson I’m…kind of offended you didn’t snap me :(  
 **@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker sorry babe you’re distracting with snap, Jack isn’t  
 **@bibliobaker** @LegitKentParson Parse :(   
**@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker I took some good shots of butts in baseball pants, will those cheer you up  
 **@bibliobaker** @LegitKentParson I mean, a LITTLE, but I’m still mad at you  
 **@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker don’t be mad, want us to Skype you tonight  
 **@bibliobaker** @LegitKentParson is he staying at your place again, Mr. #prosbeingbros?  
 **@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker idk tomorrow’s a day game but we were gonna do dinner  
 **@bibliobaker** @LegitKentParson Like a date, you mean? #partini  
 **@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker like food with a fellow athlete after a game, whole team invited me, apparently I’m famous to them  
 **@bibliobaker** @LegitKentParson Oh my God, Kenneth, don’t act like you’re all shocked by your massive popularity.  
 **@JMartinez7** @bibliobaker @LegitKentParson At least he hasn’t done that thing where he introduces himself as Kent Parson w/ that stupid big smile of his  
 **@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 @bibliobaker what you don’t like my smile  
 **@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson @bibliobaker Of course I do, doesn’t mean it’s not stupid o:)

Direct Messages  
 **@bibliobaker** He loves you. He. Loves. You. He LOVES YOU.  
 **@LegitKentParson** I don’t think he’s real, he’s kind of unbelievable  
 **@bibliobaker** He loves you ;_____;  
 **@LegitKentParson** he’s amazing  
 **@bibliobaker** Wow, Parse, I just. Do you realize how happy you’ve looked in all your pics on Twitter and Instagram? Oh my gosh, it gives me goosebumps.  
 **@LegitKentParson** I still don’t know what I’m doing but I’m trying not to think too hard about it  
 **@bibliobaker** Probably a good plan, hon. Just go with what feels right.  
 **@bibliobaker** Are we good enough friends that I can get TMI with you and ask you some questions I have been dying to know the answers to?  
 **@LegitKentParson** well yeah but I’m gonna tell you right now there’s nothing to get tmi about  
 **@bibliobaker** …Okay, what do you mean by that.  
 **@LegitKentParson** we haven’t actually done anything you haven’t seen already  
 **@bibliobaker** You’re…kidding, right?  
 **@LegitKentParson** no I’m serious,  
 **@bibliobaker** You’ve kissed him, right?  
 **@LegitKentParson** no not ready yet  
 **@bibliobaker** Oh my God, I’m making dying whale noises. Seriously? Have you held hands?  
 **@LegitKentParson** yeah when we’re alone  
 **@bibliobaker** It’s been almost six months and you haven’t kissed him yet.  
 **@LegitKentParson** no  
 **@bibliobaker** Has he asked?  
 **@LegitKentParson** twice  
 **@bibliobaker** Oh my God, I’m going to ascend to Jesus now, goodbye.  
 **@LegitKentParson** he’s letting me sort of idk get used to myself  
 **@LegitKentParson** learn to be like   
**@LegitKentParson** used to people or whatever  
 **@LegitKentParson** idk if you noticed but I don’t exactly like people touching me  
 **@bibliobaker** I’ve noticed. I think you do like it, but you don’t like asking for it and you think you have to stop it when it’s offered to you. Would you let me hug you?  
 **@LegitKentParson** well yeah of course you’re you  
 **@bibliobaker** Good, because I’m kind of going to hug you a lot when I see you next. I’m so happy for you, Parse. I just want you to really, really know that and FEEL THAT, okay? Gosh, you deserve the world and I feel like he’s working so hard to give it to you.  
 **@LegitKentParson** the moon too I think  
 **@bibliobaker** KILL ME NOW

**Jack:** When are we meeting him _(7:02AM)_  
 **Jack:** Is he there right now _(7:02AM)_  
 **Jack:** Did he stay over again _(7:05AM)_  
 **Kent:** you can meet him as soon as you get knocked out of the playoffs and no he’s not here right now, he has a day game, he didn’t stay over _(10:09AM)_  
 **Jack:** Are you going to today’s game too _(10:17AM)_  
 **Kent:** yeah _(10:18AM)_  
 **Jack:** I’m happy for you Kenny _(10:20AM)_  
 **Kent:** thanks _(10:30AM)_  
 **Kent:** me too _(10:47AM)_

**

May comes around and Kent celebrates Javier’s 25th birthday with all the Aces and the Scorpions on the Strip. It’s fun, but it’s better when Javier comes home with him, when they are alone, pressed together on the couch. They still haven’t kissed but it’s been close, Kent wanting and being afraid to want. Javier asks, for the third time, if he can kiss Kent. Kent shakes his head but slides onto Javier’s spread lap, tucking himself against Javier’s chest. Hips hitch beneath him and his heart thunders wildly in his chest. Javier doesn’t push, but Kent can feel in the trembling of his body that he wants to. They hold onto each other until Kent, shockingly, falls asleep. When he wakes he’s in his own bed, a text on the lock screen of his phone saying _I’m in the guest room. Sleep well._

By mid-May, when Kent is back in the swing of off-season hockey and doing morning runs with the two new kids, Poindexter and Nurse, Javier has become somewhat of a celebrity in his own right. Through little comments dropped here and there, people have learned that he is _not_ like most baseball players, that he often wears makeup because he’s self-conscious of his skin, and that he is 100% fine with his sexuality—whatever that is, he hasn’t really confirmed much publicly.

And then, in late May, _Playboy_ gets ahold of him for an interview, and as Kent stretches out in bed for the night with Javier on the east coast, he reads the article with his heart jumping in his throat. This is the man he is falling for. Sometimes it’s hard to believe.

 

**Playboy:** So let’s start from the beginning, Javier. You were born in El Paso, raised in a family of sisters and a single mother, great at all sports but you gave yourself to baseball. Your entire family worked to give you every baseball opportunity they could, and you paid them back by getting a 3.8 GPA in high school and going to the University of Texas, where you maintained a 3.43 GPA and absolutely killed it on the field. Then you were drafted by the Rays, and now you’re considered one of the young cornerstones of the Scorpions’ new franchise. 

**Javier Martinez:** It’s funny the way you boil my life down like that, because for me, it wasn’t that simple. There were multiple summer jobs, for all of us. Even my little sister Antonia sold lemonade and gave me everything she made. So for pretty much my entire life, I knew it was going to be up to me to help my family and give them back everything they’d done for me.

**Playboy:** And have you?

**JM:** [laughs] I’m working on it, that’s for sure. I paid off my mom’s mortgage, and my Tío Geraldo really needed a new truck, so I bought him one recently. It’s the little things. They’re not asking for the world, even though that’s what they gave me, and I’m working my ass off to make sure I can give them more. Antonia’s got a scholarship for UT, but I’m paying for her books and her spending money so she can just focus on school.

**Playboy:** It sounds like you have a very tight-knit family.

**JM:** I do, that’s for sure. My mom is sort of the glue that holds everyone together. She left Cuba when she was sixteen and came here with her husband at the time. He left when Antonia was about six months old, and honestly I don’t remember him. My mom is one of the most amazing human beings I’ve ever met. Her depth of compassion and love is unparalleled, and she’s shown me my whole life what it really means to be a man.

**Playboy:** Speaking of being a man…

**JM:** [laughs] Oh boy, I knew this was coming.

**Playboy:** You’ve sort of taken the social media world by storm ever since you posted that Vine of yourself using concealer before heading out for a night on the town. After that, what we’ve learned about you, Javier, is that you not only wear concealer but sometimes finishing powder as well, you get your eyebrows waxed, and in general you seem incredibly comfortable with this sort of redefined masculinity.

**JM:** I think in order to talk about redefined masculinity, we need to talk about what people think masculinity is. In my opinion, the idea that men are burping, farting sex machines is toxic. I am more than the sum of my parts. I’m intelligent, caring, I cry often, and I love very, very deeply. Why do we have to call that redefined masculinity? Why do men, my own peers, feel the need to call me a faggot because I love Disney movies? I don’t think that what they’re exhibiting is masculine behavior—I just think they’re assholes who have been so beaten down by the patriarchy that they can’t enjoy a movie for the fear that it might make them gay. It seems so ridiculous, but it’s dangerous too. Men who feel they have something to prove are dangerous. 

**Playboy:** Slightly off topic now, but what’s your favorite Disney movie?

**JM:** _The Princess and the Frog._ My girl Tiana’s got her shit together.

**Playboy:** So you are this redefined man that personally we all can agree is the type of man that we’re looking for. But honestly, I think everyone here at the office is more interested in your online and offline relationship with Las Vegas Aces captain Kent Parson.

**JM:** Kent’s a very good, very close friend. He and I met at the charity event last December and we’ve grown closer ever since.

**Playboy:** Are you two dating?

**JM:** I guess that depends on the definition of a date. We hang out a lot and play video games.

**Playboy:** And you have stayed the night with him, right?

**JM:** Guest room. 

**Playboy:** You’re blushing.

**JM:** It’s warm in here.

**Playboy:** Mr. Parson has certainly enjoyed teasing the media lately with his hashtag of prosbeingbros while you two are out and about doing what could be considering romantic things. Is his hashtag an homage to the idea of “gals being pals” as a euphemism for lesbians?

**JM:** Kent’s got a strange sense of humor. I’m not sure what he’s referring to there specifically, to be honest.

**Playboy:** All right then, Javier. Are _you_ interested in Kent Parson?

**JM:** Yes. I thought that was obvious. [laughs]

**Playboy:** Where would you say you fall on the sexuality spectrum?

**JM:** Most days, I feel I _am_ the spectrum. I’m not too picky about physicality, I guess. It’s people I’m interested in, male or female, cis or transgender. I’m lucky enough to have been with all types of people, and I’m okay with who I am.

 

The rest of the article delves further into Javier’s sex life, of course, because it’s fucking _Playboy_ , and Kent finds his eyes lingering over certain passages—namely the fact that Javier has bottomed for women with strap-ons but never for a man. There’s also the attention to detail Javier gives on how much he enthusiastically enjoys intimacy of all forms, even handholding. That he’s a patient guy and never pushes someone for something they don’t want. How he emphatically insists that consent isn’t sexy, it’s mandatory. 

**Kent:** nice playboy article _(7:48PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Oh! I forgot that was coming out! Do I sound stupid in it? :/ _(8:32PM)_  
 **Kent:** you sound smart and very sexy _(8:33PM)_  
 **Kent:** like that’s how people are going to see you I mean _(8:33PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Okay good, I was nervous as hell. The Scorpions have been really, really supportive. I was surprised, actually. Idk if you saw, but they basically ignored a request from the Commissioner regarding the ‘blatant overuse of homosexuality’ in their ads. Now we’ve got rainbow uniforms for the next home game and tickets are half-price when bought through the center :) _(8:37PM)_  
 **Kent:** nice, are they going to offer t-shirts too because I want one _(8:39PM)_  
 **Javvy:** I’ll pick one up for you before they sell out! _(8:40PM)_  
 **Kent:** I’ve gotten a slew of tweets asking me how I feel about you bc of that article _(8:42PM)_  
 **Javvy:** :/ Sorry. I tried to be as delicate as I could without, you know. Giving away too much on your end. I hope it was okay. I didn’t mean to blow up your Twitter even more. _(8:45PM)_  
 **Kent:** it’s okay. My agent has been pestering me to make a statement one way or another so I think I’ll let everyone stew a little longer _(8:45PM)_  
 **Javvy:** You are a publicist’s nightmare, you know. _(8:45PM)_  
 **Kent:** I know. Or maybe I won’t make them stew maybe I’ll tweet something soon idk yet _(8:46PM)_  
 **Javvy:** What would you tweet? _(8:47PM)_  
 **Kent:** that I am completely crazy over you _(8:50PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Crazy as in… _(8:51PM)_  
 **Kent:** I adore you you know that _(8:51PM)_  
 **Javvy:** And I adore your cat. _(8:52PM)_  
 **Kent:** don’t play you know what I mean _(8:52PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Maybe I just want to hear you say it. If that’s okay. _(8:53PM)_  
 **Kent:** you want to hear me say that I’m falling in love with you _(8:53PM)_  
 **Kent:** did that freak you out are you there _(9:00PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Sorry, got really emotional. Trying to breathe. _(9:00PM)_  
 **Kent:** did that make you cry _(9:01PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Yes, sorry. I don’t know what to say to that. Can I say something to that? _(9:01PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Never mind, I can’t, sorry. Just know that it’s reciprocated. _(9:02PM)_  
 **Kent:** what did you want to say javvy _(9:03PM)_  
 **Javvy:** I can’t, it’s too much. I’m doing that thing again where I can’t seem to control my feelings. At least we’re doing this over text where I can think about what I want to say. _(9:04PM)_  
 **Kent:** bitty says you love me _(9:05PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Eric Bittle is a smart man. _(9:07PM)_  
 **Javvy:** It’s after midnight here, so I think I need to go to sleep. Did you see my triple tonight? _(9:07PM)_  
 **Kent:** I did it was okay :) _(9:08PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Chico rudo. Good night :) _(9:08PM)_  
 **Kent:** night baby _(9:09PM)_

**

**@LegitKentParson** super glad @LVScorpions are back in town, taking the new kids out to a game tonight @DerekNurse @WJDex  
 **@LVScorpions** @LegitKentParson @DerekNurse @WJDex We’re glad to have you!! Wear something rainbow and you’ll get a free drink!  
 **@LegitKentParson** @LVScorpions sweet what do I get for my boyfriend being the starting catcher

**@JMartinez7** @LegitKentParson So I’m your boyfriend now?  
 **@LegitKentParson** @JMartinez7 whoops I knew I forgot something  
 **@TMZ** .@LegitKentParson @JMartinez7 MR. PARSON, IS THIS A JOKE OR ARE YOU SERIOUS, CAN YOU PLEASE CONFIRM  
 **@LegitKentParson** @TMZ whoa chill, it’s rude to yell  
 **@TMZ** .@LegitKentParson Mr. Parson. Please.  
 **@LegitKentParson** @TMZ yes I am confirming that @JMartinez7 is my boyfriend, #partini is better than #zimbits

**@bibliobaker** @LegitKentParson Oh my God, you’re such a little shit, Parse. I love you.   
**@bibliobaker** @LegitKentParson @JMartinez7 We’ll be down in June sometime!!! We’d love to meet up!!!  <3  
 **@JMartinez7** @bibliobaker @LegitKentParson YES PLEASE. You and I have some baking to do. 

**Bitty:** I’m so fucking happy I’m crying. _(9:47AM)_  
 **Kent:** calm down, it’s gonna be ok _(9:48AM)_  
 **Bitty:** Parse, this is huge. This is so huge. I’m overwhelmed. _(9:50AM)_  
 **Kent:** me too a little, but I trust him _(9:50AM)_  
 **Bitty:** C R Y I N G _(9:51AM)_  
 **Kent:** what now are you crying because I said I trust him _(9:57AM)_  
 **Bitty:** Yes!!!! Oh my God, Parse!! PARSE!!! ;A; You trust him. I’m so proud of you for letting yourself have this. I know how hard it is. You’re amazing! _(9:58AM)_  
 **Kent:** calm down there elle woods _(10:00AM)_  
 **Bitty:** Oh, fuck right off, Kenneth. I’m happy for you. :) :) :) _(10:02AM)_  
 **Kent:** I don’t think about Jack every day anymore _(10:03AM)_  
 **Bitty:** I am so, so proud of you. _(10:05AM)_

**

Kent and Javier have started hiking in Red Rock Canyon together, for an hour or two early in the morning if it’s a night game, and for several hours on off days. They talk a lot when they’re in the canyon together, and something about the blue expanse of sky, the craggy earth, and Javier’s warm hands puts Kent at peace inside his often-wild chest, and so for the most part while they hike around and climb the rocks, Kent is free with his words—and even more importantly, he’s honest with them.

Sometimes they get stopped by other hikers for pictures and autographs, but Javier has gotten very good at finding trails off the beaten path where he and Kent (and, after their third excursion, Kit in a harness) can be totally alone. It’s on one of these short jaunts away from civilization that they find a stream of water and sit down to watch Kit fight with a few lizards trying to cool off in the shade.

They pass water back and forth, and though it’s hot, Kent feels good. He doesn’t protest when Javier hands him sunscreen, only dutifully reapplies it and lets Javier get the back of his neck. Kent’s even wearing special hiking boots he bought specifically for their time together.

“I’m excited for tomorrow,” Javier says, and Kent feels a pang in his chest. Javier’s leaving later in the day for Chicago. “We’re not doing too bad, _acere_. At least, we’re doing better.”

“Hey, you’re not dead last,” Kent says. “Sometimes that’s all you can hope for.”

When Javier reaches for his hand, Kent laces their fingers together, keeping an eye on Kit to make sure she doesn’t get herself into a situation she can’t get out of. “Kent?”

“Yeah?”

“May I kiss you?”

Kent’s heard that request six times before now, and each time he says no, Javier nods and changes the subject. Though his eyes hold disappointment, he never seems angry or frustrated. He doesn’t ask why Kent will curl up in his lap but won’t kiss him, doesn’t try to make anything a competition or call on a debt or take what he hasn’t been given. When Kent is on his lap, Javier is sometimes hard, but his hips stay still, and though his voice wavers, he doesn’t ask for more. 

If he thinks about it, Kent competes with everyone for everything, except for Javier. There’s no competition here, and even more, Kent doesn’t want competition.

He touches Javier’s jaw and coaxes him closer. Javier had been watching Kit when he’d asked, and now he’s looking at Kent with high eyebrows and wide, searching eyes. Kent brushes his nose to Javier’s, waits to see what he will do, but Javier has never gone back on a promise. He stays perfectly still, lips parted. His skin shines lightly with sweat.

When Kent kisses him, it’s a lovely spreading warmth from his mouth to his heart. The sound of Javier’s sharp intake of breath is electric. Kissing Javier is nothing like Jack—Jack who was in turns pliant and aggressive, which Kent rather likes. Instead, Javier is trembling as though he doesn’t know what to do with such a gift, and Kent has never felt so important before.

“Okay?” Kent asks, pulling back just enough to meet Javier’s eyes. His cheeks are bright red. 

“ _Sí_ ,” Javier says, and his hand reaches out, fingertips on Kent’s jaw. “Again?”

Again. And again. And again. Yes.

**

When Javier isn’t at the ballpark or doing events to promote the team or away, and when Kent isn’t in off-season workout or involving himself in captainly things such as barbecues and get togethers, they’re at Kent’s apartment, on the couch. Sometimes they watch TV or movies. And other times, when Kent’s not having a crisis, they’re pushing and pulling at one another, hands in hair, on necks, pressed low against stomachs, mouths giving and taking and giving again. Kent has declined the couple of offers from Javier to go to his place, feeling more comfortable in his own, but Javier doesn’t seem to mind—especially when he’s got a lap filled with Kent.

“Wait,” Javier says, voice rough, as he tries to push Kent gently away from where Kent is dutifully sucking a mark into Javier’s collarbone. “People will see that!”

“They know you have a boyfriend,” Kent says, moving to Javier’s neck instead. Javier puts a hand over Kent’s mouth and pushes him to arm’s length again. Kent whines.

“You,” Javier says, “are a menace. Are you going to behave if I let you go?”

Wanting to be truthful, Kent shakes his head. His dick is so hard he thinks he could come if Javier kisses him just a little more. 

“Well,” Javier says, his body giving a fine shudder from top to toe. “I mean. I’d say you can do whatever you want to me as long as it can’t be seen in my uniform, but I feel like that’s giving you a lot of leeway to—”

Kent pushes Javier’s hand away and all but tackles him. His body is this hard, living thing beneath Kent, and Javier shudders one more time before completely giving in, loose-limbed and sensually noisy as Kent covers him in kisses and bites, leaves little marks of love all along his skin. Kent curls his hands around Javier’s wrists and pins him down, rocking their hips together. It doesn’t take long before his body gives of itself. He should be embarrassed, but he’s not. He’s exhilarated and finds himself laughing breathlessly even as his body flutters with the orgasm, looking down at Javier, who is clearly wrecked but not as far along as Kent is.

“Did you,” Javier asks, and Kent nods, says _yeah, I did_ , and Javier closes his eyes and curses and tosses his head back in a whine. So Kent set his mouth to Javier’s throat and sucks.

When Javier comes, he’s louder than Kent expected him to be—louder than anyone he’s ever been with, and his hands are desperate things that travel up and down Kent’s back, holding him close, his face damp and pressed into Kent’s neck. Kent rides him through it, using his hips as a tool to keep Javier coming, the two of them rocking so tightly together that Kent can’t remember, for a moment, ever not having this. He can’t remember having ever wanted anything else.

It takes several more moments before Javier can open his eyes, and when he does, he looks up at Kent like Kent is something ethereal, and Kent’s heart stops at the full force of Javier’s love, unfettered now when it wasn’t before, a beacon bathing him in golden light. Kent kisses him slow and deep, and Javier feels nervous beneath his hands, unsure. 

“It’s okay,” Kent tells him, fingers carding through Javier’s dark curls. “It’s okay.”

“I love you,” Javier says, voice small against Kent’s shoulder. “I love you so much, it hurts.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

And it is.

**

“So you’re doing a photo shoot for who again?” Kent says, as he makes himself a breakfast of egg whites and spinach. On FaceTime, Javier is pacing in his New York hotel room.

“Cosmo.” He exhales in a whoosh. “I’m really nervous.”

“It’s just a photo shoot,” Kent says, and even though he’s working on the French press, he doesn’t miss the way Javier goes quiet. “Photo shoots are no big deal, and you look like a model anyway. I think I saw you on _True Blood_ or something.”

Javier’s still quiet, so Kent focuses on his iPad screen. “Dude, what are you bumming about?”

“It’s a pretty…specific photo shoot.”

Kent shrugs. “Yeah, Cosmo likes to do stuff like that.”

“No, I mean.” He sighs. “You’ll see it when it’s out, I guess, I’m just really nervous.”

They talk a little more after that, Kent working to distract Javier from his worry, before Javier has to go to the photo shoot.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Javier says, as he’s tying his shoes. “Love you.”

Kent squeezes the handle on his coffee mug. “I know.”

They smile at each other before Javier disconnects the video and Kent eats his breakfast.

After, he runs with Dex and Nurse until the heat becomes too much, and invites them over for lunch and video games. Thanks to Javier, Kent is ‘cool’ to the kids with his collection.

“Fuck, man,” Dex says, looking at the dozens of XBox One games Kent has neatly on his media shelves. “Did you, like. Buy every game out there or something?”

“Only the good ones,” Kent says, letting Kit climb into his lap for her usual mid-day grooming session. Kent loves the Furminator so much he’s considering doing an endorsement for them. “If you guys want to play, go ahead.”

They want to play. Dex and Nurse get themselves set up on the floor in front of the big TV, playing Halo while Kent watches and grooms his lazy cat. They’re maybe ten minutes into it when Nurse looks back at him.

“So that baseball player is your boyfriend, huh?”

“Looks like it,” Kent says, flipping Kit onto her back so he can brush her ticklish stomach. They swat at each other. 

“He seems cool,” Dex says, and Kent can tell by the blush on the back of his neck that Dex is trying to find something to say but is embarrassed by it anyway. “He’s been putting up gaming reviews on his blog. He’s a super good writer.”

Kent did not know Javier had a blog, so he pulls out his phone to A) berate Javier for not telling him, and B) Google for the blog. “Cool.”

There’s another ten seconds of silence. Then, Nurse says, “He’s fucking hot.”

Dex punches him in the shoulder. “You can’t say that to people.”

“What? I can’t say the truth? You’re stopping me from being honest now?”

Kent rolls his eyes. They’re only six years younger than he is, but sometimes six years feels like sixty. “Boys, boys. We’re teammates. Say whatever the fuck you want, and if I don’t like it, I’ll tell you.”

Dex and Nurse look at him with big eyes, then they look at one another it. “Got it,” Nurse says, turning back to the TV. “Your boyfriend is fucking hot.”

“Thanks.”

“I think I saw him on _Game of Thrones_ ,” Dex says.

“That was Jason Momoa, but you’re not that far off. He’s six-six.”

“Jesus,” Dex says. “How can he even catch?”

“He’s got particularly conditioned glutes,” Kent says, and Nurse’s laughter is loud and bright in his apartment. 

**

**@Cosmopolitan** Here are some exclusive pictures from our interview and shoot with Las Vegas Scorpions’ catcher @JMartinez7: csmo.us/5YPOeNM

**@bibliobaker** Oh my sweet mother of crap. @JackZimmermann, I’m DEF leaving you over @JMartinez7 oh my god?? DEM THIGHS  
 **@prettypaulie** @bibliobaker Sweet Christ almighty, is this the world we live in now? If so, I’m pretty happy to be in it?  
 **@swimmerfann** @prettypaulie @bibliobaker I’m dying. Attractive man? Check. Attractive man in thigh-highs? Check. Corset  & garters & stilettos? C H E C K  
 **@bibliobaker** @swimmerfann @prettypaulie Okay @JMartinez7 I have to know—who convinced you to do this and what lipstick are you wearing bc it looks kiLLER  
 **@JMartinez7** @bibliobaker @swimmerfann @prettypaulie Haha oh dear, well. They were interested in the PB article I did so they asked me how comfortable I am w/ lingerie  
 **@JMartinez7** @bibliobaker @swimmerfann @prettypaulie I said p comfortable if they can find it in my size! Lipstick is Givenchy Le Rouge, Carmin Escarpin

**@LegitKentParson** @bibliobaker I told you if you want him we have to switch @JackZimmermann @JMartinez7  
 **@bibliobaker** @LegitKentParson TAKE HIM, JUST TAKE HIM PLEASE @JackZimmermann @JMartinez7  
 **@JackZimmermann** @bibliobaker @LegitKentParson @JMartinez7 Well that’s not nice.

Direct Messages

**@bibliobaker** DID YOU KNWO ABOUT THIS SHOOT BECAUSE I FELE LIKE I’M DYING?  
 **@LegitKentParson** I knew he was doing something for cosmo but I didn’t know what it would be, trust me, I am having the same reaction you are, I think I just passed out on the floor and Jesus had to bring me back  
 **@bibliobaker** Who the fuck even is he, Parse? What did you FIND? I have never—oh my god, he’s just so comfortable with his body? And with wearing LINGERIE IN PUBLIC? AND LIPSTICK? AND HIS EYES ARE ALL SMOKEY AND HOLY SHIT??? Oh my God, he is like a gift from God.  
 **@LegitKentParson** idk idk idk anymore u think I’m joking when I say I’m having a heart attack but I’m not I keep refreshing the page like it’s a joke or smth  
 **@bibliobaker** Your boyfriend  
 **@bibliobaker** has posed  
 **@LegitKentParson** I know I know I know  
 **@bibliobaker** in a black satin corset, thigh-high stockings, garters, and stilettos  
 **@LegitKentParson** I KNOW  
 **@bibliobaker** all spread out on a Victorian-style couch A LA YOUR OWN SPREAD IN THE ESPN THE BODY ISSUE PARSE DO YOU SEE THE RESEMBLANCE  
 **@LegitKentParson** oh my god no I hadn’t oh my god is that on purpose does he know about that  
 **@bibliobaker** His makeup is fucking ON POINT and he has fuck-me bedroom eyes and is 150% totally okay with this and is a huge feminist and all-around amazing human being also did YOU SEE WHAT HE SAID ABOUT YOU AS WELL   
**@LegitKentParson** THERE WERE WORDS??  
 **@bibliobaker** YES. HE BASICALLY TALKED ABOUT HOW AMAZING YOU ARE AND HOW YOU’VE HELPED HIM BE MORE CONFIDENT ON THE FIELD AND NOT WORRY SO MUCH IT WAS THE. SWEETEST. THING.  
 **@LegitKentParson** how did this happen  
 **@bibliobaker** You were born, that’s all it took. You were born and you deserve the fuck out of that glorious man, but I will still trade Jack for him, right now, let’s go.  
 **@LegitKentParson** no thanks, I think I’m good  
 **@bibliobaker** PAAAAAARSE ;__________; I AM SO PROUD OF YOU


	4. Chapter 4

**__**

summer

Due to a delayed flight and bad midwest weather, the first time Jack and Bitty will get to meet Javier is at the park before the evening game. Kent, having grown tired of sitting in different spots in the park, paid for season tickets for four seats near the Scorpions’ dugout closest to home plate. Bitty is far more interested in the park itself than Jack or Kent are, so he wanders off to the first base line to watch batting practice while Kent settles in his seat and repositions his cap to block out the sun.

“They’ve been doing pretty good,” Jack says, settling next to Kent with his knees spread. They haven’t discussed the Bruins getting knocked out of the playoffs, nor have they discussed the trade rumors. Kent knows that when Jack’s ready to talk about it, they will. The shock, however, is the fact that Bitty hasn’t brought it up yet either. Since Kent is still learning how to be a good friend, he’s decided to take that as a sign that he shouldn’t pry.

“They’re okay,” Kent says, one foot up on the empty seat in front of him. “Better than I think everyone thought, but seriously, baseball is boring.”

“Bitty explained a lot to me,” Jack says, looking down the first base line to where Bitty is getting an autograph—wait, no. He’s signing one. Kent rolls his eyes. “Something about there being two games going on at once? Pitcher versus batter and then everything else? I don’t know. He also said something about curveballs and stolen bases.”

Kent snorts. “Yeah, I know a lot of baseball words now but I have no idea how to apply them. Apparently Javvy’s WAR is good? And so is his OPS? Whatever, his acronyms are doing great this season.” 

Jack makes a noise and they glance at each other. After a moment, they nod. Hockey is way better.

When the Scorpions take the field, Kent leads Jack and a now-sunburned Bitty down by the baseline, where they wait. Javvy takes his usual turns in the batting cage, but doesn’t hit as many balls as he usually does. Instead, he jogs over with a big grin on his face, reaching his hand out several steps before he gets to them. Jack shakes his hand first and they clap one another’s shoulders.

“Welcome to my park,” Javier says, turning his blazing smile onto Bitty, who reaches for a hug instead of a handshake. Javier obliges immediately, squeezing Bitty for several seconds. Bitty looks impossibly small against him. “I’m so happy y’all were able to make it. I hope your flight wasn’t awful.”

“It was worth it,” Bitty says dreamily, still caught up in Javier’s chest. Javier drops a kiss to the top of his head and Bitty’s delight is infectious. Jack snorts, unimpressed. Kent can’t stop smiling. 

“Today should be good,” Javier says, giving Kent a raised eyebrow. “It’s the Yankees. You can’t say the Yankees are boring.”

“The Yankees are boring,” Kent says—in tandem with Jack. They shoot one another quick looks before laughing. Sometimes Kent feels like there is a balloon of warmth inside him that fills slowly, and sometimes it fills quickly, and at other times, like now, it’s ready to burst. He is so happy. 

Bitty waves his hand at Kent and Jack like he is dismissing them from the planet. “Oh my God, y’all, go sit and be boring, then. Mr. Martinez, will you take a selfie with me for Twitter?”

While Bitty and Javier take their pictures together—and Javier signs some autographs—Kent and Jack collect beers and chili cheese fries before settling down in their seats again to wait. This is the most packed Kent has ever seen the ballpark, and he lets pride show on his face as he smirks at Yankees fans around them. Jack and Kent sign their own autographs once they’re recognized, and two girls even come up to Bitty, having been watching the vlogs he’s done recently on being a librarian and his favorite new books. Bitty gushes with them over baseball, and the girls freeze when Javier comes by one more time. He takes pictures with them, blows Bitty a kiss, and then the game is underway. 

Overall, Kent is pretty chill. He claps and cheers whenever appropriate and rolls his eyes at all the Yankees fans as he lounges indolently in his chair. But every time Javier does something great, like nearly falling into the dugout to catch a ball or throwing a Yankee out at third, Kent has to put a hand to his chest to make sure his heart’s still there. It’s beating so fast it feels like one long, continuous, contented hum.

The Scorpions lose 6-0, which nobody is particularly surprised about. But Javier had great defensive plays and one of two Scorpions hits for the game, so Kent is proud. Even when the Yankees fans yammer at him, he just smiles and waves, his casual attitude frustrating them, which is exactly what he wants. He and Jack and Bitty chat idly about their post-game plans—Bitty is dying to go to the Strip, as he’s never been to Vegas—and slowly make their way around the ballpark to the player’s entrance.

Kent waves at wives and girlfriends and their friends who are waiting by the entrance as well. When they see Jack they sort of hover near him until it’s clear that he’s fine with talking and signing autographs—then they ask for pictures, which Bitty is only too happy to oblige.

For his part, Kent only has eyes for Javier, who comes down the tunnel with one of his pitchers—Sonny something, Kent isn’t sure on his last name—and Javier is wearing khaki shorts and sandals and another one of his goofy t-shirts. This one says _Home is Where the Pants Aren’t_. Kent wants to touch him but refrains, hands shoved in his pockets. Javier doesn’t reach out to him first, not while they’re in public. Despite how flirty they are on Twitter, Javier is extremely hands-off unless Kent initiates it. Kent is grateful. Sometimes he doesn’t know what he’d do if Javier touched him in public first.

“Decent game,” Kent says, because he isn’t one to mince words.

“Yep,” Javier agrees, his smile tired but wide. “Better than the 16-0 loss we had against the Cubs last week. At least the pitching kept the Yankees on base instead of crossing home.” Javier bumps Kent’s fist when Kent offers it. His knuckles are sun-warm. “What are our evening plans? Do we have any?”

“The Strip!” Bitty says, butting in as he fits himself to Kent’s side. “I can’t wait to see all the lights. And do some gambling. Can you believe I’ve never been gambling before? I feel like part of my life is about to begin for the first time. Oh! Do we have time to see any shows? I’ve heard that the Vegas shows are some of the—”

Jack puts a hand over Bitty’s mouth from behind, smiling serenely at Kent and Javier. “If we don’t start moving, he’ll keep us here all night.”

Javier laughs and holds out a hand to Bitty, who takes it. “Come on. Let’s go gambling. I’ll even buy you a drink at the casino.”

“I thought the drinks were free,” Bitty gasps. 

“They are,” Javier says. “I was just trying to be cute.”

When Kent realizes he has been caught smiling stupidly at the back of Javier’s head by a smirking Jack, he flips Jack off and leads the way to the parking garage.

 

They spend hours together on the Strip, going from casino to casino and bar to bar and hotel to hotel, Bitty taking more pictures for his Instagram and Twitter than any human has a right to and constantly chattering about how _wonderful_ everything is and how _exciting_. Jack calmly follows Bitty around and makes sure he doesn’t fall off his stool when he’s had a few too many to drink, a solid presence at Bitty’s side or his back. Though Jack is quieter, he seems to be enjoying himself as well, playing the slot machines and signing autographs and laughing with Javier and Kent.

Javier is so bright and inviting. He gathers people to him like moths to flames, and they are all so eager to burn. Kent is among them. He just wants to be warmed from the inside out, and Javier’s little casual touches on his shoulder and elbow push Kent ever closer to the fire.

“Do you think they like me?” Javier asks at one point, his voice low in Kent’s ear, when they’re making their way to the Venetian. It’s after two and Javier has to be exhausted, but he’s kept up his exuberance much longer than Kent has. Even Bitty has faded into a mellow state of being.

Kent gives him a look and says nothing. Javier heaves an annoyed sigh. “Okay, I know the answer to that is yes, but. Jack likes me too, right? Not just Bitty?”

“Why does it matter?” Kent says, sidestepping a couple of very wasted college kids and colliding with Javier’s chest. It’s a happy accident.

“They’re your friends,” Javier says, and doesn’t add anything else to it because Bitty has turned around to ask them for a group selfie. It’s only once they’re moving again that Javier leans into Kent a second time. “Jack does like me, though, right? You think?”

“If he didn’t, you probably wouldn’t know it anyway,” Kent says, and he means to be helpful but Javier’s face falls. His eyes are impossibly dark in the neon lights of the Strip. “I mean, he _does_ like you, but if he didn’t, that would be fine. That wouldn’t change anything. But honestly, I wasn’t worried. I knew they’d love you.”

They spend another hour out and about before taking a cab back to Kent’s penthouse. Javier hesitates at the doors to the building; Jack and Bitty have already wandered inside to gawk at the lobby.

“You want to stay?” Kent asks. Javier nods, looking tired and relieved at the same time.

“Please. Bitty and Jack can take the guest room—I’m fine on the couch.”

Kent turns toward the lobby doors with his keys in his hand and his heart in his throat. “You can just stay with me, it’s no big deal.”

He doesn’t say anything other than that, and Javier follows after a couple seconds of silence. In the elevator, Bitty dozes against Jack’s chest and Kent can’t stop shifting from foot to foot, staring as the floors light up one at a time, getting closer and closer and closer. 

Exhaustion pushes Jack and Bitty into the bedroom that Kent designates, after he shows them where the guest bathroom is. They disappear, and now Kent is left alone with Javier, who is looking at the living room couch and won’t meet Kent’s eyes.

“Here is fine, really,” he says. “Your couch is good for naps.” 

“You have a game tomorrow,” Kent points out. “It’s no big deal. I have a king bed.” 

But it is a big deal. It’s a very big deal, and Javier obviously knows it, because he hesitates at the couch and doesn’t meet Kent’s eyes. “I really am fine out here.”

“Come on,” Kent says, heading into his bedroom, where Kit is lounging on his pillow. His room is orderly and expansive, because he’s got a rich streak in him and likes his comforts to be fancy, but now his room feels small and warm and a little claustrophobic. Javier is inside his room. Javier has never been inside his room before.

Because he’s so nervous he wants to throw up, Kent affects his icy chill like an armor, kicking off his shoes and sliding out of his shirt as though he isn’t bothered by this at all. As though he hasn’t just realized that Javier obviously isn’t going to sleep in the clothes he’s spent all day in. To break the silence, he opens the middle drawer on his dresser and tosses a pair of pants to Javier, who fumbles but catches them. “My mom sent me those for Christmas last year,” Kent says. “She has no idea what size my ass is, so those should fit you okay.”

Javier laughs, but it’s breathy and nervous. He’s trying to be cool too, but he’s much worse at it than Kent is. “Jeez, you’re right. Just how big does she think hockey players get?”

“Enormous, apparently.” Kent shucks his clothes and pulls on pants and a t-shirt quickly. Javier is changing too. Right there, five feet away, shorts pooled at his feet (because Kent can’t help but to look) as he wiggles into his pants. He’s kept his underwear on, at least. Thank God for small miracles.

Then Javier tugs his shirt off and Kent’s heart stutters to a halt. “Shit, you have a tattoo?”

Javier looks over his shoulder then, eyebrows raised in surprised. “I thought you knew?”

“No? I’ve never—” _seen you with your shirt off other than on your Twitter and am just now realizing that was a frontal shot_ “—you’ve never—it’s nice.” 

It’s a tree. From the base of his spine to shoulder-blade level, always hidden beneath shirts, is a delicate, beautiful tree that looks like it’s made of bones, outlining Javier’s spine in swipes of black. The branches run along his ribs, little twigs shooting off, the leaves made of curls and swoops. They’re names, Kent realizes. He sees Jacinda’s easily, holding up an inch of Javier’s bottom left rib.

“It’s my family tree,” Javier says, and Kent slides a little deeper into love. “Every time a new baby is born, I add their name. I want to keep them with me. I want them to be buried with me.”

One day, Kent is going to put his mouth on that ink. He’ll let his tongue trace the whorls and dip down to the salted hollow at the base of Javier’s spine. Tonight, though, he simply turns to walk on shaking legs to the bathroom, fingers reaching blindly for his toothbrush. He says something like _that’s cool_ but his voice doesn’t even sound real to his own ears. Kent is in love, he is in love, he is in love. And there is nothing that terrifies him more.

“I take it this is your side,” Javier says, after he’s brushed his teeth with Kent’s spare toothbrush and has his arms folded across his bare chest as he stares down at the indolent cat looking up at him.

“Usually,” Kent says, putting his clothes in the laundry basket for something to do. “My side is whatever her side isn’t for the moment.”

There’s another low chuckle and Kent’s stomach makes all sorts of racket, yelling up at his heart which yells up at his brain and makes Kent feel blush-dumb and too warm.

They get in bed together. There’s at least two feet of space between them, Javier with an extra barrier in the form of a pillow he’s holding in his arms. Kit, excited for someone new to harass, gets under the covers to no doubt curl up in the space behind his knees.

“If I move,” Javier says, soft in the darkness, “is she going to shred me?”

“Nah,” Kent says, surprised his voice sounds as easygoing as it does. “Just don’t roll on her. Have you ever heard a demon scream? Because that’s what it sounds like when you roll on her. It’s like she thinks you’ve tried to kill her.”

Javier snorts. His shape is big in the dim light from the closed curtains, which don’t block out all of the neon. Kent can’t see his details but he can feel them in the ease and give of his weight on the bed. Then Javier says, “I’m so fucking nervous right now I feel like I’m going to puke.”

Relieved, Kent says, “I know,” because he does. They both fall quiet, but it’s not as nervous as it was before, the unbearable tension giving a little upon Javier’s admission. “Did you…want to talk about anything in particular? Or are you tired?”

“I’m exhausted,” Javier says, “but I’m wired too. Did you get the link I emailed you from Buzzfeed about the new Dragon Age game?”

Talking about video games and Netflix original series and NHL trade rumors lulls Kent into that unfamiliar but beautiful sensation of friendship. He and Javier are still friends before they are anything else, and though Kent scoots closer to the middle of the bed, closing their negative space to only a foot, his body doesn’t flinch from the closeness. He relishes it. Closes his eyes. Breathes.

“‘m falling asleep,” Javier mumbles. When he’s tired like this, his accent is more pronounced. From a conversation before, Kent knows that Jacinda didn’t want Javier to learn Spanish when he was young. She wanted him to be a _real American boy_ , with all the opportunities afforded to the white boys in the area. But Javier insisted. He wanted to speak his mother’s tongue, and so she let him learn as long as his English didn’t have an accent. _She said I had to be better and smarter and stronger than the white boys because they’d all see me as a poor wetback. She worked three jobs to give us nice clothes and new shoes. She wouldn’t take hand-me-downs. She wanted us to have nice things._

Kent reaches out into that uncharted void and threads the tips of his fingers through the curls at Javier’s forehead. Javier makes a little noise. Kent doesn’t stop. “Go to sleep,” he says, then adds, “I’ve got you.”

“I know,” Javier says, and before long his breathing evens out but Kent watches him, unable to look away, fingers tracing the sharp bones of Javier’s face before Kent too finally falls asleep.

**

Kent wakes up alone, but there’s a text on the screen of his phone when he looks at it, saying that Javier is in the kitchen making breakfast. So Kent goes out to join him, Kit following at his heels and ready for food, which he dutifully gives before yawning his way to Javier. 

Standing in front of the stove in his shorts and shirt from the day before, Javier makes his skillet breakfast burritos that he’s cooked once before for Kent. Kent absolutely loves them—loaded with sautéed vegetables, lean pork, and egg whites, it pairs well with Javier’s careful spice-sorcerery and warm tortillas.

“Morning,” Javier says, and Kent, feeling quiet and confident, slips between Javier and the stove and fits himself to Javier’s chest, cheek resting against shoulder. Javier’s arm loops around his waist while he flips the sizzling breakfast around. There’s a kiss pressed to his temple, and Kent closes his eyes, drowsing as Javier hums. 

After several minutes of Javier shuffling Kent around as he goes from fridge to pan to microwave for the tortillas, Kent gets the sense that they’re no longer alone. He freezes, still tucked against Javier’s warm body, unable (and unwilling) to look up. 

“Smells good,” Jack says, and the sound of a chair scraping against the floor is an intrusion into this softness Kent has cultivated this morning. “I’m assuming it’s nutritionist-compliant?”

“Of course,” Javier rumbles, tugging Kent with him to the island, where he chops a sweet onion one-handed. “I’m nothing if not nutritionally balanced.”

There’s another chair scrape, then Bitty’s sleepy voice ringing out much softer than Jack’s. “Sweet lord, who’s making me coffee?”

“Coming up,” Javier says, and he brings Kent back to the stove. Neither Jack nor Bitty makes a comment, but Kent can positively _feel_ Bitty’s excited vibration. 

When Kent is led toward the table where Javier serves Bitty his coffee, Kent meets Bitty’s eyes for a brief moment and gives a roll of his own. Bitty could be the star of his own celebrity TV show if he really wanted to. 

They talk briefly about their plans for the day and the evening before Javier serves breakfast. After that they’re all silent as they eat, Kent closing his eyes as he chews, thinking that it might be nice to have this regularly, to wake up in the mornings to this. To be able to come home to this.

He hasn’t been to Javier’s house yet because that’s been too big of a commitment for him, but what could be the harm in letting his heart grow a little bigger? Bitty was right—he doesn’t have to take anything away from Jack to give to Javier. What Jack has, Jack will always have. But Kent is capable of more.

“Javvy has a pool,” Kent says. “If we’re nice, I bet he’d let us use it. And I’ve been told multiple times about his impressive TV.”

“My TV is my child,” Javier says, which makes Bitty snort coffee out of his nose. “My TV is my infant. My love.”

“It’s apparently a 4K Ultra blah blah,” Kent says. “He takes pictures of it all the time.”

“Let me tell you how good _Mass Effect_ looks on a 90-inch curved screen,” Javier says, and Jack shakes his head.

“I have no idea what you said just now,” he says, and Kent gives him a look.

“You’re getting old over there, Zimms.”

“Says the thirty-three year old—”

“I am not thirty-three!”

Bitty gives Javier a deep sigh. “These two, I swear.”

Javier’s belly laugh makes Kent flush from his cheeks to his collarbones, and he can’t help but to grin. 

**

Kent forces himself to calm down and they all go to Javier’s house to swim, the obligatory tour giving Kent butterflies as he sees, for the first time, Javier’s bedroom—comforter rumpled, bed unmade, clothes on the floor. They eat lunch, and they go to Javier’s game. The Scorpions lose again. They hit the Strip, they club. Jack and Kent sip whiskey at the bar while Bitty and Javier dance together in such a way that makes Kent itch somewhere deep in his bones. 

They all go back to Kent’s apartment around one, and as soon as Kent and Javier are alone in the bedroom, Kent eases up against him, presses a hand to the back of Javier’s neck, and pulls him down for a kiss.

It’s been several days because Kent wages war with his emotions on an hourly basis, but Javier’s mouth is consenting and warm, and he lets Kent put hands all over him, lets Kent tug him to the bed and pull at his shirt. Lets Kent tumble him to the pillows and climb on him and rock on him.

Javier has said before that Kent can have anything he wants and nothing he doesn’t, and so Javier asks _this okay?_ and _this okay?_ as he touches and tastes and explores, fingers hesitant and slow under Kent’s shirt and pressed to his ribs. They go slower and slower until their mouths simply fall on one another, breathing slow, hands in hair. Kent is pliant like melted butter, letting Javier hold and stroke him, eyes closed and enjoying the attention. 

“I love you,” Javier says, his voice hushed in Kent’s ear. “I love you so, so much, Kent.”

“I know.” He settles his mouth at the pulse in Javier’s neck, which is quickened but not pounding like it sometimes is. Their hands grapple lazily together, Javier’s breathy sighs almost loud in the silence of the room. Somewhere in the hallway, Kit is whining because she hasn’t been allowed in. “I know you do. I can’t believe you do.”

“How can I do anything else?” 

“You could do plenty else,” Kent says, pressing his hands along the trembling muscles of Javier’s stomach. “I still don’t think I’m worth any of this.”

“And I think you’re worth all of it.” Javier stretches his arms above his head, spine arching, and lets Kent explore. “I see this light in you, Kent. You try to hide it sometimes, but it’s always there.”

Kent snorts, mouth soft on the ridge of Javier’s sternum. Javier is hard. So is Kent. “Sometimes I wonder what you see when you look at me, because I’m not sure you’re seeing all the right things.”

There’s a tentative hand draping at the back of his neck. Kent very much doesn’t mind, and though Javier isn’t pushing or pulling, Kent enjoys the sensation of being held. “I’m seeing everything,” Javier says. “The good and the bad. You’re not perfect, Kent, but who is?”

“You.”

A laugh now. “ _No way_. Don’t you start thinking that, Kent Parson. That doesn’t help my anxiety.”

Kent chuckles with him, finding his mouth and giving him long, thorough, soft kisses. He means to talk more, reassured in this dark space they’ve created between them, but he’s distracted by Javier’s fingers in his hair, the mouth at his throat. On a flash of instinct, he rolls off Javier, onto his back against his pillows, and tugs Javier’s hand. _Come here_ , he says, and again when Javier doesn’t move. _Come here._

He’s pressed into the mattress and his knees fall open to let Javier in. Though his heart pounds, he doesn’t let the nerves get the better of what he wants. He wants this, so he wrestles his trembling heart into letting him have it.

Javier is gentle for being so big, and Kent appreciates the sweetness, the way Javier holds himself up and doesn’t crowd Kent too heavily. They kiss again and again and again. When Javier doesn’t take more than he’s been given, Kent gives him a little more. Wiggles out of his shirt and gets Javier out of his. Touches hands to Javier’s bare back as though he can feel the ink.

“I love your tattoo,” Kent tells him, when their mouths break and Javier is running fingers through Kent’s hair and looking at him with unwavering eyes. “Can you believe I don’t have one yet?”

“Not surprising,” Javier says, tucking his face to Kent’s neck and nuzzling there, sending little shivers rippling across Kent’s skin. “You take commitment seriously.”

“That’s probably the exact opposite of what most people would say about me.”

“I know you better than most people.” He shifts a little then, still careful not to press too close. “You’ve got me all kinds of warm, _acere_. We should probably stop.”

Kent hadn’t thought much about stopping or moving forward; as far as he’s concerned, he started this and hadn’t considered anything beyond _this_. “We don’t have to.”

“Trust me,” Javier says, and even in the faint neon from the Strip, Kent can see his dimple from smiling, “I have _no problems_ with that. But I don’t want to push.”

“Not pushing. I’m letting.”

Javier doesn’t ask him twice. He simply nods and watches as Kent reaches for him, fingers light on the sharp, stubbled curve of his jaw. The exploration then is soft, Kent really learning those sharp angles he’s been looking at for months and months, the scent of Javier’s cologne a faint backdrop to that of his skin, which is a warm sort of clean that’s comforting. Javier bumps his forehead to Kent’s not unlike Kit, their noses brushing, then their mouths. All soft and measured but not tentative. Time consuming. Sweet. 

When Kent’s body starts flooding with need and he can feel the pounding of his heart in his groin, he rocks his hips upward, testing, and is rewarded with a movement from Javier—same pressure, same speed. Javier follows Kent’s direction without a word, waiting for Kent to start before he finishes. In the confines of his shorts, Javier is clearly hard.

“Let me touch you,” Kent says quietly, fingers pushing down Javier’s flinching belly to the button of his khakis. “Can I?”

“Only if you want,” Javier breathes. _Nothing that you don’t._

Kent is clumsy one-handed, and he’s burning with embarrassment when Javier laughs that little chuckle of his and leans back. “Try again,” he says, and the display of his beautiful body makes Kent forget, briefly, that he’s already made a fool of himself. Javier’s young and doesn’t seem to care, so Kent uses both hands to pop the button and slide down the zipper, and shit, there he is, bumping right up against the elastic band of his underwear, cotton wet at the tip. Kent can’t see enough of him, but it’s exactly what he needs. He can’t think too much about what he’s doing beyond how much he wants it—and how Javier will let him have it.

Javier’s cock would be heavy if it weren’t so swollen and pressed tight to his belly, almost directly in line with the trail of hair that leads from his navel on down. Kent presses his thumb up against the crown, the heat of him thick in the small space between them. His mouth waters. He doesn’t think he’s ever been particularly good at sucking cock, but he hasn’t had a lot of practice. Shockingly, women have always been easier for him. They don’t elicit that competitive streak in him that makes him ache with jealousy and the need to show off. Kent wants to suck Javier off but even his confident, flashy side shies at that. Not yet. Not yet. 

Javier is still from his position poised about Kent, one hand on the bed somewhere near Kent’s waist and the other gripping the pillow by Kent’s head. His breathing is heavy and the little earthquakes have started in every part of him Kent can feel, but Javier doesn’t move his hips. He braces and waits.

Kent wants to talk; it’s instinctive in him, to either dissipate the tension or increase it (dirty talk, when he’s comfortable, comes naturally), but he’s quiet as he explores this new part of Javier’s body, given freely to him for this exploration. His fingers glide and press along heated skin, slip in the precome at the swollen head. He rises up enough to press his mouth to Javier’s, a chaste thing considering what he’s doing down below. Stroking slowly. Slicking him up. Cataloguing every strained sigh and careful shift and shuddered exhale.

Maybe it’s his youth or his wholehearted eagerness, but Javier doesn’t take long. He comes over Kent’s hand and wrist, shuddering hard enough to break apart continents now, his breath ragged. Other than a soft whimper of Kent’s name, he’s silent. It’s slightly disappointing. He was certainly louder before, but then, Kent realizes with a jolt, they currently have guests just down the hall. 

“You’re so good,” Kent manages to tell him, stroking him through the last tremors. “You are so good, you know that?”

“I’m good,” Javier murmurs, and it’s half a question. Kent kisses him.

“So good.” They’re words he’ll have to say later, because in the flash of neon from the window when Javier shifts, he looks fucking wrecked by them. They kiss. It’s slow and deep, and Kent watches with his own trembling body as Javier picks up his slickened hand and kisses and licks until he’s clean.

“You don’t mind—uh.” Kent doesn’t know how to say it.

“Did you like that?” Javier asks. Kent doesn’t know what to say to that, so he rises up to take another kiss anyway. There are fingers in his hair, hands cradling his jaw. His own cock aches in his jeans, and he hesitantly curls fingers around Javier’s wrist, pulling his hand away. Javier moves easily, head tilted curiously as he waits for Kent to say or show what he wants.

So Kent puts Javier’s hand to the front of his shorts. Just the weight of his palm and spread fingers is almost enough. “Touch me?”

Javier fumbles just like Kent did before, trying to get his cock out. They chuckle breathlessly together, Kent’s thighs closing as a reflex, Javier stopping and coaxing his tightened mouth to give him kisses. It feels like it takes forever, but finally Kent’s body is warm enough, finally he presses a hand to Javier’s shoulder and exhales in Javier’s ear. Finally Javier cradles him and jacks him off, experimental, trying things, murmuring reassuring little words and praises and endearments. So much love rolls off his tongue. Kent lets himself float in it as his body spirals higher and higher toward orgasm. Javier will not break him unless Kent asks. 

One day, Kent will ask for it, little by little. He’ll ask Javier to use that big body of his and hold him down, to fuck him. He’ll get to pin Javier to the bed and take him in turn. Kent could try things. New things. Things he’s never trusted someone enough to ask for. One day.

For now, he holds onto Javier’s broad shoulders with one arm, his free hand on Javier’s torquing wrist, hissing through his teeth that this is good, it’s good, keep going. He spirals up and out. When he comes he has to bite his lip, and Javier strokes him through it. Pulls his messy hand up to his mouth and licks it clean.

Kent loves him ferociously and doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to say it and mean it quite the way he wants, but Javier’s not stupid. He’s got his eyes on Kent, and his eyes are the huge dark things Kent adores, and he looks shocked and disbelieving to his core. Kent isn’t trying to hide, not now. Not even a little.

“I—” Javier can’t seem to say anything else. Kent kisses the corner of his mouth. Tastes salt.

“Let me shower?”

“Yeah,” Javier says, and he eases back just enough for Kent to slide out from under him. He’s dazed as he settles to the bed on his back, cock soft and draped in neon from the curtains. “God almighty.”

When they settle down to sleep, Kent’s got his back to Javier’s chest, playing with the fingers curled in his own as he drifts off. 

**


	5. Chapter 5

**__**

summer continued

**Kent:** I’m super nervous _(8:42AM)_  
 **Jack:** Don’t be. She’s really nice and helpful. _(8:50AM)_  
 **Kent:** I don’t want to be psychoanalyzed _(8:50AM)_  
 **Jack:** That’s not what she does. You’ll just talk and then she’ll make you feel better, it’s easy. _(8:55AM)_  
 **Kent:** I’m changing my mind about this _(8:56AM)_  
 **Jack:** Just try it once. If you don’t like it, don’t schedule another appt. _(8:56AM)_  
 **Kent:** Ok _(8:58AM)_

The video call comes through and it takes Kent several seconds to answer it. The woman’s face that fills his screen is very pretty—dark eyes behind chunky-framed glasses and dark hair piled on top of her head. She waves at him and smiles. She has braces. “Hi, Kent. Nice to meet you.”

He settles in for his first therapy session with Blanca Diaz and tries to appear outwardly calm. “Hi, Dr. Diaz. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Good things, I hope,” she says, and her laugh does put him at ease.

“Something about zucchini?”

She smiles sweetly. “I have a pretty amazing garden, it’s true.” He can sense the moment she shifts from friendly to friendly-but-professional. “This is your first time talking to a therapist, isn’t it?”

Therapist. Even the _word_ makes him cringe. “Yeah.”

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.” Might as well be honest. “I keep thinking about dudes with German accents in really uncomfortably clinical rooms with a couch and a clipboard.”

She puts her chin on her hand and smiles at him. She’s had to have heard that a thousand times but doesn’t look like she’s frustrated by it. Kent tries to analyze every pixel of her face to see at which point he gets on her nerves. “Thank God it’s changed, huh? Personally, I love using technology like what we’re doing now. I think it’s convenient that you and I can have a discussion while each in our own homes, thousands of miles away from each other.”

“What has he told you about me?” The words come out before he can stop them, and he’s embarrassed they came out at all. “Never mind, you can’t tell me that.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I know he’s told you awful things.” He pauses. “I mean, they’re true, but they’re awful.”

“Are you worried about an opinion I might already have about you?”

Yep. Nailed it. “Maybe.”

“Everyone’s experience is different,” she says, and he can tell why Jack likes her so much—her voice is very soothing and calm, and he doesn’t feel talked down to. “Every person we know in the world is someone somebody else doesn’t know, even if they’re close to them. We have multiple facets of ourselves, and sometimes we choose to show those facets to different people. It doesn’t mean we’re being dishonest with ourselves; it’s more like some people get a greater percentage of who we are versus some people who don’t, like coworkers or strangers on the street.”

“So you’re saying you want to see a different side of me.”

“If you let me,” she says, “I’d like to see every side of you. Because I don’t know you.”

He chews on his lip at that. He could probably end the call now and she would let him. But she’s asking. Letting him dictate their next steps. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I guess you can get to know me.”

Dr. Diaz smiles. “Thank you.”

“Now what?”

“There’s not a script,” she says. “This isn’t the part where you talk to me about your childhood. You just talk to me and I talk back.”

“You don’t talk first?”

“Sometimes I do. Would that make you feel better?”

A shrug.

“Kent, may I ask you why you’re interested now in talking to someone?”

Feeling the need to test her, he says, “No.”

“Okay. Do you want me to turn off the therapist part of me and we can just talk about hockey or hobbies for a little while? Because I’m a human being just like you. Gardening is one of my passions, but I also love to crochet.”

He tilts his head. “Is crocheting hard?”

“Yes and no.” She leans over on her desk and pulls something toward her, holding it up to the screen so he can see. It’s a tiny baby sweater in Bruins colors. “I’m making this for my niece. I’ve been crocheting since I was fourteen because I wanted to have what I thought was a strange hobby, and it turns out I really like it.”

“I can knit,” Kent says, “but I’ve never tried to crochet.”

“I _wish_ I could knit. I don’t really have the dexterity for it. Crocheting is nice if you already know how to knit because it gives you lots of great options for edgings on things like hats and sweaters.” She smiles. “Do you have needles and yarn right now? We can work while we talk.”

It’s been a long time since Kent did any knitting, but he manages to find a pair of circular needles and some bulky yarn. He pulls up a pattern on his phone and starts to knit a hat. They work in silence for nearly twenty minutes before Dr. Diaz says, “Shoot, look at this. I’ve goofed.”

Kent looks up at the screen and sees a small hole in the front of the sweater. “Put a button on it,” he suggests, and she gives him a look like she hadn’t even considered that.

“That would be cute,” she said. “Or like a flower or something. Thanks for the idea.”

“What’s my diagnosis?” 

She doesn’t stop the movement of her fingers. “Is that important for you to know?”

“I want to know what’s wrong with me so I can fix it.”

“Mental health isn’t like having the flu. It’s something you’re going to have for the rest of your life, Kent. A lot of people feel like they have a daily battle with their own minds.”

He snorts. “I thought it was your job to cure people.”

“I can’t cure anyone, not even myself.” Her tone is pleasant. When he looks up at her, she’s still crocheting, frowning at the yarn in her hands. “I think I’m going to start this all over—but I still like your button idea.”

“Jack said you helped him get better.”

“That’s very kind of Jack to say.”

“So you’re saying it isn’t true?”

“I’m saying it’s very kind of Jack to say, nothing more.”

“You don’t think you helped him get better?”

“I think Jack was receptive to certain suggestions that allowed him to develop personal coping strategies to ease the effects of his condition. It’s called cognitive behavioral therapy, if you’re interested, and is very effective.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to talk about your patients. Confidentiality and all.”

“There was nothing specific,” she says mildly, “and this is about you, not him.”

“It’s always about him.”

“Why does it have to be?”

Kent shrugs. They work in silence again. Then he says, “I have a boyfriend.”

“What’s his name?”

“Javier.”

“That’s my nephew’s name. It’s a great name.”

Kent watches her. “You have a lot of nieces and nephews, don’t you.”

“Just the two. Javier and Valencia. What’s your Javier like?”

Kent doesn’t know what to say to that, so he changes the topic again. “My whole life has been about Jack.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I’m saying it, aren’t I?”

“You’re saying it, and I’m hearing it. Do you believe it?”

He shrugs. “It’s what I say.”

“What else do you have in your life besides Jack?”

By the end of their hour, Kent doesn’t feel any different. For some reason, he expected to. As much as Jack talks about how great therapy is, Kent sort of wanted some damn results. “Do I need to be medicated?” he asks at the end. 

“Do you think you need to be?”

He’s not really liking the way she makes him answer his own questions. He needs someone to tell him what to do so he can start to get better. Make sure he can keep Javier from leaving. “In your opinion as a professional, do you think I need to be medicated.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Jack’s medicated.”

“You’re not Jack.” She smiles. “Everyone is different. If you want some cognitive behavioral therapy for the next few days, I have a suggestion for you. It is only a suggestion and nothing you are required to do.”

He shrugs. “What’s that?”

“When you think of yourself in conjunction with other people, I’d like you to actively think about if you’re comparing yourself to them or not. Then tell yourself, ‘I am no one but me.’ That’s it.”

“ _That’s_ your PhD advice?”

“Yep. Sounds like bunk, huh?”

He smiles a little. “It sounds pretty stupid.”

“I’m only suggesting that you try it, that’s all.” She pauses. “What do you think your diagnosis is?”

He shrugs again. “I don’t know. Fucking crazy and awful?”

“Unfortunately, no. I hate to break it to you, Kent Parson, but you don’t have any severe afflictions. You’re pretty aware of yourself and your behavior. You know why you do the things you do, you just don’t know how to stop doing them. That’s where I come in—to give you suggestions on how to manage your behavior and your own personal way of thinking in a way that suits you.” 

He frowns. “What’s my diagnosis?”

“You think I have one?”

“I know you do. What is it?”

“Have you ever heard of BPD? Borderline personality disorder?”

He has. “That chick on _Girl, Interrupted_ had that. I don’t think that’s me.”

“Everyone is different,” she says, and he wonders if that’s her tagline on her website. “There are signs of symptoms for every condition known to man, and not everyone has each and every one, and not everyone has the most severe form. If you are asking me as the lady with the PhD who has to use a diagnosis code on an insurance bill, I will put down BPD.”

“That’s bad, isn’t it.”

“Do you think it is?”

He huffs. “I don’t like being asked so many questions.”

“We can be done for the day, if you like.”

“I don’t understand,” he says, “why I have to do all the work. I just. I just need someone to tell me what to do and where to start.”

She leans back in her chair, giving him that pleasant smile. She doesn’t look rattled, and he wonders why. He’s a problem child, and he’s making her job harder. “Have you ever heard the saying if you give a man a fish, he’ll eat for a day—but if you teach a man to fish—”

“So you’re teaching me to fish.”

“You got it.”

“What if I never learn?”

“Then I’ll teach you how to ask for help so you can fish.” She softens her voice and he feels it straight to his core. “Kent, if you want to get better, whatever _better_ means for you, you can. This is something that is within reach. You are not hopeless, and you never have been. Do you feel better knowing you have a diagnosis from a professional?”

He sits on that for several long moments. “Yes.”

“Because it feels real now, doesn’t it?”

“Real.”

“Yes. If I tell you that you have this thing, a thing that you feel like fits you, then you can say _Good, it’s not just me, someone else thinks I have this thing too._ When I was first diagnosed with depression, I cried. I was relieved that I had a name for a thing that has plagued me for as long as I can remember. Relieved that I wasn’t ‘crazy.’ I was diagnosed when I was sixteen, and working with my therapist made me realize I wanted to help people feel the same way I did that day. Because it was the first time I realized I wasn’t alone.” She pauses. “Kent, you aren’t alone.”

He says nothing. He’s not even looking at her. Her words sound powerful for how soft they are. “No?”

“No. Fourteen million Americans feel what you feel every day. Some people have learned to cope with their condition. Others need more help. Some people are hospitalized for it. You aren’t crazy, Kent, and you aren’t alone.” 

“Why—” He stops, clears his throat. “Why do I have this?”

“Why is my hair curly? Why is the sky blue? The answer is _because_. Sometimes there’s no rhyme or reason. Sometimes BPD arises after a traumatic event, particularly in childhood, related to abandonment. Sometimes it’s genetic. I can’t answer why you have this, Kent, but I can help you cope with it.”

“How often would I have to talk to you?”

“As often as you want. If you want my PhD recommendation, twice a week.” 

He blinks. “You have time for that?”

“I have time for everyone I take on, yes.” 

After another long few seconds, his mind blissfully quiet and strangely calm, Kent says, “Does Monday and Thursday work for you?”

“Yes. Same time? 9:00 in Vegas?”

He nods. “Yeah.” Pause. “I lied to Javier about what I was doing this morning. He wanted to go hiking but I said I was spending time with teammates.”

“Ah.”

“Do you think it’s bad that I lied to my boyfriend?”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you feel bad?”

“Because lying’s bad.”

“Why did you lie?”

He runs fingers through his hair. “I didn’t want him to know.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m afraid he’ll leave me.”

“Why?” 

“Because that’s what people do.”

“Who’s left you?”

“Everyone.”

“Who?”

“My parents.”

“Who else?”

“Jack.”

“Did Jack come back?”

“He’s my best friend.”

“Did he come back?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t?”

Kent puts hands to his face to hide his tears. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“Okay.” A switch has been flicked. Her voice hasn’t changed, but Kent feels like he can breathe again. “Monday, then?” 

“I need—” He presses fingers to his eyes. “All I think about all the time is how it’s only a matter of time before he’s going to get tired of me and not want to deal with my shit and he’ll leave. Jack left. Jack came back. I don’t think Javier would.”

“How much have you talked to him about your feelings?”

“Not much, and not really the bad ones.”

“Feelings aren’t good or bad, Kent. They simply are. It’s what we do with them that can be positive or negative, but they still aren’t _bad_.”

She imparts only one more piece of wisdom on him before they disconnect their call: _You are not obligated to tell anyone anything you are not ready for._

Kent can hear Javier’s words in his head— _everything you want, nothing you don’t._

**Kent:** hey you busy _(10:19AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Nope! What’s up, baby? _(10:24AM)_  
 **Kent:** I lied to you today about what I was doing, I didn’t do anything with the team. Are you mad? _(10:25AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Am I supposed to be mad? Because I’m not. I’m sure you had a reason for it, but mostly I’m curious why you’re telling me now :* _(10:27AM)_  
 **Kent:** I had an appt with Jack’s therapist, I want to get better _(10:30AM)_  
 **Javvy:** That’s great!! Therapy is kinda weird. Our team therapist makes me answer all my own questions haha _(10:32AM)_  
 **Kent:** that’s exactly what happened with this lady, it was kind of annoying at first but she made me feel a little better today. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you think I was crazy or broken. I’m not crazy or broken. I have a thing. It’s called BPD. _(10:35AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Ah, my roommate in college had BPD. How does that make you feel? _(10:37AM)_  
 **Kent:** dude don’t you dare ask me questions right now lol I spent an hour doing that with her. No I’m kidding. I feel fine actually. I feel normal. She said I’m not alone. _(10:39AM)_  
 **Javvy:** The best part is she’s super right. That’s what my doc told me too. That I’m not malfunctioning because there’s really no such thing as normal? I just sort of have to find my own normal and work with that. _(10:40AM)_  
 **Javvy:** I’m really proud of you, Kent. Going to therapy is super hard but if it’s what you want, I’m glad you’re letting yourself have it. I just don’t want you to think you have to tell me everything all the time. You can keep secrets, it really is okay. _(10:42AM)_  
 **Kent:** everything I want and nothing I don’t right _(10:43AM)_  
 **Javvy:** Yes! Always  <333 _(10:45AM)_  
 **Kent:** can you come over, what I want is to make out _(10:46AM)_  
 **Javvy:** OMW!!!!!! _(10:46AM)_

**

Weeks pass. Kent spends more time conditioning and training with the team, working on his endurance and building muscle. He and Javier don’t see each other as much, but they text and they video chat whenever possible. Once, Javier even jerks himself off for Kent, who sits in bed biting on his tongue and watching raptly. Out of view of the camera, Kent gets himself off too, and Javier can clearly tell with the way Kent’s eyes slip closed and his breath goes all shallow. Javier’s litany of _I love you_ fills Kent’s fuzzing brain.

Then, in early August, Kent gets a FaceTime request from Jack, and somehow he just knows.

He answers the call and says, “Where?”

Jack watches him with surprised but tired blue eyes. “What?”

“Where were you traded?”

“How did you _know_?”

Kent shrugs, his heart doing all sorts of uncomfortable things. Poor Bitty. _Poor Peyton_. “I just did. Where?”

There’s a long pause. Jack presses a hand to his eyes, then says, “Vancouver.” 

It isn’t what Kent expected at all. Detroit he could probably see, and maybe Montreal, considering it’s where Jack was born. But Vancouver? “Well, shit. Are you accepting?”

“After all they went through to get me, I don’t see how I can’t. I don’t think the Bruins would let me stay at this point, not with the draft picks. And David thinks it’ll be a good idea, face of the franchise and all, might get named as captain.”

“How many years?”

“Four.”

Kent doesn’t ask how much the contract is monetarily, because money matters to neither of them. “Is—is Bitty going with you?”

“I don’t know yet,” Jack says, leaning a chin on his hand. He looks completely exhausted and so much older than thirty-two. “We’ve talked a little about it. It would be a huge upheaval for him—like, enormously huge. New country, three hour time difference from everyone he knows, he wouldn’t be able to work for a while…so. I don’t know.”

Kent thinks about what will happen if he or Javier gets traded in the future, and his mouth goes dry. Jack and Bitty have been together for over two years at this point. They don’t even _live together_ yet, which baffles Kent on a daily basis. But how could Bitty _not_ go with him? “Who else knows?”

“Bitty and you. I’m calling my parents soon, and he’s telling his parents tonight.”

“You know I support you, right?” Kent tries to keep his voice from sounding too aggressive, but Jack doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, Jack smiles.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks.” He sighs. “Man, not really what I was expecting, but…I hear there were definitely _multiple_ negotiations, so at least it’s not like the Bruins just tossed me out willingly.” 

Kent doesn’t even know what to say to that, so he says, “Let me know what I can do for you guys, okay?”

“We will. Thanks again, Kenny. I’ll talk to you soon.” 

When they disconnect, Kent sits back. It could happen to him, too. Anything could happen in professional sports. The fact that Jack’s leg injury didn’t end his career is half a miracle in and of itself. Kent’s never been seriously injured before, but it could happen. He’s not exempt. Jack wasn’t. It could be him.

To soothe his agitation and erratic thoughts, Kent cleans the kitchen. He rarely actually cleans anymore; for the last four years he’s had the same housekeeper, Laura, who comes twice a week. But there’s something soothing about washing dishes. Wiping down the cabinets. Scrubbing the oven. He allows himself to get distracted because if he thinks too hard, he’s going to panic. The idea of losing his career with Las Vegas makes him think of other kinds of loss. Makes him want to grip at his chest and keep his heart from punching through his ribcage. 

He almost texts Dr. Diaz but doesn’t. He utilizes her breathing exercises. He hums to himself to distract his brain from thoughts. He sings. He sits on his counter and does BuzzFeed quizzes. He tweets to interact with humans a little. His thoughts aren’t good or bad, but they can be right or wrong. Right now they’re wrong, and Kent has to recognize that and move past it. Within twenty minutes, he’s mostly calm.

**@LegitKentParson** my twitter username is stupid. I feel like I need to change it. What should I change it to   
**@swimmerfann** @LegitKentParson Dude, what? You have a great username. I call you LKP in my head.  
 **@LegitKentParson** @swimmerfann haha really? What else could that stand for. Legit Katy Perry?  
 **@swimmerfann** @LegitKentParson Legal Kite Pilfering.  
 **@LegalKitePilfering** @swimmerfann oh I like that one  
 **@prettypaulie** @LegallyKitePoaching @swimmerfann HEYOOOO what about Lost Kangaroo Patrol?  
 **@LostKangarooPatrol** @prettypaulie @swimmerfann well shit that one’s good too  
 **@swimmerfann** @LostKangarooPatrol @prettypaulie Damn! Okay, that one’s pretty rad. Parse, I’d stick with it.  
 **@LostKangarooPatrol** @swimmerfann @prettypaulie I think I will, thanks, you ladies have a good night over yonder ok?  
 **@swimmerfann** @LostKangarooPatrol @prettypaulie We will!! I saw the Scorpions are getting creamed by Atlanta :( my condolences  
 **@LostKangarooPatrol** @swimmerfann @prettypaulie is it sad that I’m not watching bc he’s got a night off  
 **@prettypaulie** @LostKangarooPatrol @swimmerfann Not at all! Sometimes we all need a break, no worries. Just take more pictures of your cat (plsssss)  
 **@LostKangarooPatrol** just for you @prettypaulie @swimmerfann: img.0394  
 **@prettypaulie** @LostKangarooPatrol @swimmerfann *___* LOVE YOU PARSE THANK YOU

**

Javier mouths lazily at the jut of Kent’s collarbone, his fingers threading without tugging in Kent’s hair, all but petting him. It’s early July. The heat outside is so intense that even Kent’s hard-at-work air conditioner can’t bring it below seventy-four.

That doesn’t matter. He’s got no shirt on anyway, stretched on top of his sheets, comforter kicked to the floor. They’re curved toward one another, sweating damply, hands on heated skin. Kent ducks his head for a kiss and Javier gives it to him. No tongue. They are being tender with one another.

“My mom wants you to come with me to El Paso for the All-Star Break,” Javier says, lips settling kiss by kiss on Kent’s jaw. “Think you can make that? It’d just be for two days.”

Kent pulls away. Looks at Javier to see if he’s joking. Javier does not look like he’s joking. “You want me to—come to—”

“El Paso,” he repeats, and he could roll his eyes right now at Kent’s stupidity, but he doesn’t. He looks sweet and unconcerned and earnest. “You could meet my sisters and my brothers-in-law and the kids. My mom wants to do like a block party and she told me I _had_ to ask you _or else_.” He presses light fingertips to Kent’s cheek, his eyes following the deepening blush there. “You can say no.” 

Kent stifles down his first reaction, which is to test. To see what Javier would do if Kent _did_ say no. But Javier doesn’t need to be tested. He’s proven himself. He means it. Kent can trust his honesty. “I’d like that,” he says, swallowing. He’s already nervous. “But I feel weird about it.”

“Weird how?”

“It’s your family. They may not like me. A lot of people don’t.” 

Javier shakes his head. His smile is small but sincere. “They trust my judgment. And I like you just fine.”

“Sometimes.”

“Most of the time,” Javier corrects with a wink. He rests his head on Kent’s shoulder, fingers playing along Kent’s ribs. “You really don’t _have_ to. I won’t guilt you into going or anything. But I would take care of you.” 

Kent sighs. “I know you will.” And he believes it.

They cook lunch together shortly thereafter, sitting at the table and eating their pasta. When that’s finished and cleaned up, they go right back to bed. It’s a lazy day for both of them, an off day for Javier, and Kent skirting his responsibilities for the time being. He drowns in Javier’s litany of love and his big hands and the way he’s so good at making Kent feel good. For the first time Kent is laid out completely bare on the sheets, covered only in sunlight. Javier simply looks at him for so many long moments that Kent starts to flush. Then Javier, with permission, uses his mouth to get Kent off, the heat of the room and their skin building until it breaks. They rest together quietly. Kent thinks, _I love you, I love you, I love you_ until he falls asleep.

**

El Paso is just as hot as Las Vegas. The Martinez house is a two-story white-painted stucco at the end of a cul-de-sac in a gorgeous neighborhood. Kent knows, from what Javier had said, that this is was his very first big-league purchase—a spacious house for his mother and family. The sky is so intensely blue it looks unreal. 

“It’s beautiful,” Kent says honestly, trying not to be nervous by how many cars are packed in the driveway. “Um, is everyone, like. Already here?”

“Of course,” Javier says, reaching over and curving his hand around Kent’s. “Baby, they’re _really_ excited to see me, and they’re even more excited to meet you. It’ll be okay, I promise. And if anything gets too intense, just head on up to my room and say you have a headache. My mom might still hover, but the others will leave you alone.”

A soft meow at his feet grounds him. Kit, in her carrier, is waking from her nap. “Is she going to be okay here?”

“She’s good with other cats, and Pudge doesn’t give a shit about much of anything anymore.” Javier squeezes Kent’s fingers. “You’re gonna love Pudge. I can’t wait for you to meet him. I’m probably more excited for you to meet him than Antonia.” 

Kent’s nerves thrum hotly as they exit the car and walk up the driveway into the house, which is filled with the sounds of voices speaking on top of one another in English and Spanish, a TV blaring ESPN, and the scent of spice and cooking meat. Javier takes their duffel bags and sets them off to the side in the foyer. The flooring is beautifully polished stone, and Kent hurriedly toes off his sneakers so as not to scuff the shine. 

“You can let her out,” Javier says, indicating Kit. As if by commanded, Kent hears a tinkling little bell and a very noisy cat that must be flat-out running down the hall. Javier scoops an enormous cat up into his arms, a cat that Kent remembers vividly from one of Javier’s very first tweets to him. Javier kisses Pudge over and over as Pudge desperately tries to force his way closer.

The voices somewhere in the interior of the house go quiet. Then Kent is surrounded by about fifteen Martinezes.

He gives a tilted smile and cool eyes, hoping no one shakes his hand because he’s sweating so much. “Hey,” he says, and the noise crescendos again as two little girls and Jacinda launch at him. He’s stifled with hugs around his waist, from Jacinda, and his knees from the kids, but he can’t help but to smile as she pets at his hair and kisses his cheeks repeatedly.

“Ah, _mijo_ , I am so happy you are here. Javier! _¡Limpia lo que tú mismo ensucies!_ Kent! Come see, come see, over here in the kitchen.”

He meets, in succession, Antonia, Sofía, Isabela, Mercedes, and Carmen. They cover him in kisses as he tries to walk into the kitchen with children wrapped tight around his legs. They are delighted that he can still walk. All he hears is laughter and excitement, the husbands and boyfriends patting him on the back, shaking his (still a little sweaty) hand, asking him how his flight was, where’s his cat, does he think he’ll get the Cup this year. How did he meet Javier. Isn’t Javier great? Good man, Kent is so lucky, such a good family he’s getting in with.

He’s prodded to taste Jacinda’s cooking and coaxed into picking up one of the little girls, who rests her head against his shoulder and seems content to simply be held. Kent’s heart beats funny in his chest, sometimes fast and sometimes slow, warring there. He’s genuinely humbled and warmed by the attention, while being desperately worried he’ll lose it all. They trust him so much already. They _like_ him already. How soon will that change?

Mercedes, older than Javier by two years, pours Kent a drink with ample tequila. “I think you need this in this household,” she tells him, pressing the tumbler into his hand. He gives her a grin.

“Golly, how did you know?”

With a laugh, she slaps his back. “I grew up with them, _acere_. We know the drill.” 

Just as Kent is feeling unbelievably comfortable and at home, the fighting starts. Loud. Argumentative. Spanglish. His parents never fought when he was little, because to fight you had to speak to one another. But something is inexplicably conditioned in him and he shrinks down into a chair at the kitchen table, as invisible as possible. Jacinda whacks one of the men upside the head with an oven mitt. Antonia laughs and settles herself next to Kent. Her smile is absolutely beautiful—identical to Javier’s. 

“This always happens,” she tells him. “But don’t worry—they don’t mean it. And they sometime forget they have guests around, so if you like spoke up and said something, they’d fawn all over you again.”

Kent gives her a raised eyebrow and a smile. Javier is nowhere to be found, but he speaks so often of Antonia that Kent already feels close to her. “So this isn’t like, real yelling?”

“Oh, no way. You’d know it. If mom’s only hitting you with an oven mitt, she’s not serious.” 

Still perched on his lap is Ava, who looks up at him with her big dark eyes. “They’ll calm down soon enough,” she says, and Kent thinks she can’t be any older than maybe four but already sounds like her mother, Mercedes. 

And she’s right. Like a switch has been flicked, everyone’s having a good time again. Javier sort of winds his way around his family and nephews and nieces until he pulls up a chair at the table with Kent, smiling and flushed.

“I got our stuff put away in my room,” he says, “so _Mamá_ over here won’t yell at me again.”

Jacinda points a wooden spoon at him. “No, _mijo_ , you do _not_ share a room before you are married.”

The look on Javier’s face is sheer surprise. “But—you’re kidding, we’re not going to—”

“No! I didn’t let your sisters, you think I’ll let you? No, Kent will stay in the upstairs guest room.”

“But then where will Bryce and Evan sleep?” Javier says. Kent has no idea who Bryce and Evan are. Maybe nephews? Probably nephews. “Mom, come on! Look, I’ll even blow up an air mattress.”

Isabel flicks her fingers at him with a smirk. “You ain’t special, kid. Mom says no, it’s no.” 

There’s a period of squawking and arguing at that point, Javier trying to make his case that he and Kent _cannot produce a baby and therefore_ , and Jacinda insisting it’s not about _babies_ and then she calls Javier a name that has everyone rolling laughing (except Javier) and Kent isn’t sure what it is and when he asks, Javier demands that nobody tell him.

Then they all eat an early dinner together, which consists of Kent having _two_ kids on his lap now and trying to eat his _boliche_ one handed. Javier tries to spare him too much conversation as much as he can without being obvious about it—interjecting when Rodrigo and Lucas, husbands to Isabela and Carmen respectively—start bombarding him with overexcited questions, punctuated with under-breath statements like _I can’t believe Kent Parson is at this table right now_. It’s like Javier knows every twitch in Kent’s hand, every small expression he has worked so hard over his lifetime to repress. To anyone else, it probably looks like they are sharing the conversation easily. He does not think anyone knows how terribly nervous he is with such rapt attention on him. It’s different from before, when everyone was in one big cuddle puddle. Now everyone is quiet when he speaks, eyes trained on him. Kent doesn’t like this anymore, not the way he used to.

“I’ve always loved hockey,” he says, as Javier cuts his meat for him so he doesn’t have to let go of the kids. “And I’ve always been really good at it. So I just pushed myself and challenged myself to always do more. I’ve never been satisfied with mediocrity.”

“It’s why you’ve gone so far,” Jacinda says, giving him a sweet smile. He loves her best when she looks at him like this. “It’s not enough to love something. You have to work at it.”

Lucas asks him about his workout routine and what they do during practice skate. Kent admits that he’s going to start taking more days off this upcoming year, to hopefully lengthen his career as his body starts to age past the point of easy bounce-back.

“More swimming?” Sofía suggests, as she feeds her newborn girl. “I heard that swimming is really good exercise while being low impact.”

Kent nods and takes a drink of his water. “Definitely more swimming. And learning how to change my game. Which is hard for me, because so much of what I do is second nature.”

“You’re so good, man,” Hector says. Kent can’t remember who Hector belongs to, but he knows his name. “It’s just amazing, like, watching you play. You almost don’t even look real, you know?” 

“I think it’s interesting watching you and Jack play,” Javier says, sipping his milk. “Because you sort of throw yourself around the ice. It’s kind of hectic but has a sense of finesse to it? Whereas Jack is all controlled movements and practiced drills. You’re both incredible in two totally different ways.”

After Kent has accepted all the praise he can for the evening, Javier easily shifts the conversation to baseball and the All-Star Game. Nobody from the Scorpions was chosen, but he’s pretty excited for some of his former Tampa Bay teammates. There’s a mad rush to put dishes in the dishwasher and get cozy in the living room for the Home Run Derby. Kent finds himself squished in a big armchair with Javier, and Ava climbing over them to settle herself on Kent’s lap again. While he’s directly addressed and is part of the conversation, they don’t ask him any other personal questions, or even questions about hockey. In fact, he gets teased a little for not knowing who Jose Altuve is. 

“You’d like him,” Javier says. “He’s more your height.”

When Kent sees how tall Altuve is on the big screen TV, he punches Javier in the arm while the room laughs. Kent finds himself to be warm and loved and content, and when Javier laces their fingers together, Kent lets him.

 

He’s only just gotten into bed that night—in the guest room, as Jacinda firmly insisted—when the door creaks open. “It’s me,” Javier murmurs. “You asleep?”

“Your mama’s gonna kill you,” Kent says, rolling over to face the door. Even Javier’s outline in the dark makes Kent a little shivery in his stomach. When Javier eases onto the bed with him, Kent can’t help but coax him in closer, arms around his neck, finding Javier’s mouth with his own.

“I won’t stay here long,” Javier says. “Just for a bit. I wanted to kiss you good night.” He sighs as Kent kisses along his stubbled jaw. “Where’s your better half?”

“Asleep with yours,” Kent chuckles. “I think she’s disowned me for your cat. I have been set aside.”

“Don’t worry,” Javier says. “I’ll give you plenty of attention.” 

They don’t do more than kiss, but Kent wants to. He feels safe here, with Javier half draped over him, his mouth a soft wonder as it moves along Kent’s skin. Though he doesn’t say it, he thinks thoughts of love and hopes Javier can maybe feel it. 

They part almost half an hour later, Javier obviously aroused in his sleep shorts but not requesting anything. Kent would feel weird, anyway, doing something like that under a roof with so many other people—and kids. But Javier doesn’t ask. He kisses Kent on the forehead one last time, says his soft I love you, and sneaks out the way he came in.

In the morning, Kent is the first male in a kitchen full of women, and he lets them dote on him and sit him down and make him a rather large mimosa. As he’s showered with female adoration, he wonders why he hasn’t tried to make more friends with women. He likes them. They make him feel good.

“How’d you sleep?” Carmen asks, patting him on the head. 

“Like a rock,” Kent admits. “I don’t even think I dreamed.”

She sits down next to him with a magazine and her own mimosa, and she lets him read over her shoulder as the rest of the house starts to trickle in little by little. As soon as Javier shows up, in low-slung pants and a tight t-shirt that says My cat thinks I’m cool, Kent’s heart wobbles a bit in his chest and he smiles.

Jacinda, without even looking, smacks Javier in the shoulder with a spatula. “You have something you want to admit, _mijo_?”

Javier stares at her with widened eyes. “What? No? What should I admit?”

“That you broke your mama’s _rules_ , maybe?”

Carmen puts a hand to her mouth, but it doesn’t disguise her snort. Javier gives her a dirty look, then yelps when Jacinda swats him again. “Javier Yuniel! I _told you_ not until you are _married_ , but I _know you_ and I _know you snuck in last night_!”

“If it helps,” Kent says, “he totally did leave after like twenty minutes or something, so he only like. Sorta bent a rule, a little? And we’re sorry, honestly.”

Jacinda’s smile directed at him is so loving and tender that he instantly feels like he doesn’t deserve it. “Oh, my dear, you are the innocent party in this. But _this one_ , on the _other hand_ —”

After Javier is chastised for another five minutes, he takes a seat next to Kent, rolling his eyes good-naturedly once Jacinda’s back is turned. Kent tries not to look at him too much, but it’s difficult. Javier seems to know and keeps giving him little glancing smiles when no one’s looking. They flirt with their eyes until Kent can’t take it anymore and takes the next opportunity to shower, pretending not to notice the way Javier’s fingers linger on his own from where they were touching under the table.

As he makes his way upstairs and to the second shared bathroom closest to his guest room, he hears a noise that sounds like crying. Without meaning to, he peeks through the cracked door in the half-bath at the landing.

“Uh,” he says, carefully, “are you okay in there?”

The crying stops. There’s a moment of silence before the door is pushed open, and Kent is looking down at Antonia’s splotchy, tearstained face. She wipes at her eyes and shakes her head, and Kent is certain that he is not prepared for what’s about to happen.

“Do you…want me to go get someone?” he says. “Like…a lady. Or a mom.”

“God, no,” she says, and peeks her head around the door to see if anyone is out there. “Can—can you come in? You’re a guy who isn’t family, so…”

Feeling awkward but wanting to be the supportive possibly hopefully future in-law, Kent follows her inside and shuts the door behind him. There’s not much room in this small bathroom, so he leans against the wall and lets her sit on the closed toilet, her face in her hands again. There are a few small plastic pieces on the counter. Kent’s seen enough movies to know what they are.

“I took three,” she said. “I took three and they’re all positive. I don’t understand. We used condoms _and_ I’m on birth control. I just don’t understand.”

What would Javier say in a situation like this? Javier is understanding and is good at seeing things from the other person’s point of view. If Kent can imagine himself as a twenty-something young woman, what would he be thinking right now? What is comforting to another human being in a situation like this? “Well,” he starts, “what kind of birth control are you on?”

“The pill,” she says. “Loestrin. I’ve never had a problem with it and I take my pill every day. I have never missed one.”

“Do you like…take it at the same time? Every day?” He’s thinking back to episodes he’s seen of TV shows. Was it on _House_? Or maybe _Gilmore Girls_? God, he misses _Gilmore Girls_.

“I mean, I have a timer on my phone for in the morning, but sometimes I can’t take it right then and I have to take it later, but I’m never like…later than three hours. And we’re using condoms.” She presses a hand to her eyes. “I just don’t understand.”

Kent scratches at the back of the head. “Well, first of all, none of those methods are like totally foolproof? So, you know. You can’t beat yourself up over it, because you clearly tried really hard. But. There are a lot of options. You know that, right?”

She’s quiet for so long he thinks he said the wrong thing. Then, “I can’t even think about an abortion. My mother would kill me. And Javier, he would—he’d be so disappointed in me. He’s going to be disappointed anyway.”

“Your mom loves you,” Kent says, “and so does Javier. But even beside that, this isn’t their choice. It’s not up to them.” 

“They’re my family, Kent. It would be nice to have their support.”

“Sure it would.” He shrugs. “But if they don’t, that’s no reflection on you. They can’t tell you what to do with your body. And I don’t think they will. At least, I’m pretty sure Javier won’t. He votes democrat and wears makeup.”

Her smile is weak but soft. She runs a hand over her hair and lets out a shaky breath. “I don’t even like this dude that much, you know? He’s just nice and is good about not making stuff weird.”

“That’s why I like your brother,” he says, “except that like, I really do like him that much.” That brings a bigger smile to her face. “But seriously. You have a few more weeks to decide, right? The internet exists. Educate yourself more and make a decision that works for you, because you’re the one that’s going to be living with it, right? Who cares about everyone else?”

When she hugs him, he’s not sure what to do at first. His arms come up around her and he squeezes what he hopes is an appropriate amount. Her voice is quiet. “I see why he likes you. You’re really good.”

The reflex to deny it is so strong, but he stamps it down. This isn’t about him. This is about her. Other people are important—a crying girl especially so. “I’m okay,” he says, as a compromise. “Javvy, though. He’s really good. If you need someone on your side, I know he’ll be there for you.”

“I don’t want to tell him. I’m afraid he’ll be disappointed no matter what.” 

Kent gives a little shrug, watching as she cleans up her evidence. “You won’t know until you tell him, which you are in no way obligated to do ever. You don’t owe people explanations at the expense of yourself.” Blanca told him that. He tries to remember it. “Sometimes you have to put your own well-being first, because you’re the only person that lives with you 100% of the time. As long as you’re happy, you can turn around and make others happy too. But don’t make them happy first.”

She nods, and he feels like he is imparting Great Wisdom upon her with the way she looks like she’s really listening and thinking it over. “It’s kind of like when you’re flying. You know how they tell you to put your own mask on first before helping other people put their masks on?”

Kent is impressed. “Yeah, that’s pretty much how like. Happiness and self-worth go. So put your mask on first. That’s all.”

He’s so impressed by it, in fact, that once she’s okay and he’s heading to the full bath to take his shower, he texts it to Blanca so she knows. 

**

The National League wins the All-Star Game, they have a huge barbecue where Kent is passed around and shown off and introduced to dozens of people, and he repeatedly finds himself right back at Javier’s side, Javier reaching for him and taking his hand and saying, “Baby, I want you to meet…”

They leave late that night on an overnight flight, which is good for Javier because he sleeps through it with his usual dose of Benadryl. Kent gets a groggy Javier out of his seat once they land in Vegas and takes care of all the luggage, Javier clutching Kit’s carrier to his chest and trying not to sway on his feet.

Without thinking about it too much, Kent tells the cabbie to take them to Javier’s house, where Javier trudges into his bedroom and collapses on the bed. Kent gets Kit set up with her litterbox, a late-night snack, and water, then manhandles Javier’s clothes off of him while Javier mumbles he can do it himself. Kent snorts. If he could, he would’ve by now.

“We’re staying here tonight,” Kent says, when he’s gotten Javier down to his underwear and has rolled him like a cannoli under the sheets. “Kit and me. That okay?”

“Always okay,” Javier yawns, arm thrown over his face. “Love you.”

Kent makes a noise of agreement that Javier probably doesn’t even hear, and settles against Javier’s warm side to sleep.

 

In the morning, he finds himself on his back, Javier’s tousled head resting on his chest. Kent curls fingers at the nape of his neck, too warm with Javier’s furnace of a body draped half on him, but he doesn’t want to move. Instead, he wiggles just enough to pluck his phone off the nightstand and snaps a picture for Twitter, because why not. 

**@LostKangarooPatrol** what a nice way to wake up amirite? img.0003  
 **@tracyisalwaysright** @LostKangarooPatrol woooooow, that’s some hella impressive bedhead there!  
 **@LostKangarooPatrol** @tracyisalwaysright you don’t know the half of it haha  
 **@tracyisalwaysright** @LostKangarooPatrol Is he asleep enough that you could draw on his face? Asking for a friend.  
 **@LostKangarooPatrol** @tracyisalwaysright I think this face is too pretty to desecrate hahaha but I’ll do it to @JackZimmermann next time I see him

“What are you doing,” Javier mumbles, shifting just enough to blink up at Kent with his long-lashed eyes. “Did you take a picture of me?”

“Of course I did,” Kent says, putting his phone down and carding fingers through Javier’s hair. “You seriously look, like. A Botticelli angel when you’re sleeping.”

There’s a snort before Javier stretches up and nuzzles his face in Kent’s neck. Against his thigh, Kent can feel that Javier is…very awake. And it makes him ache.

“Hey,” Kent says, turning his head so his mouth brushes Javier’s cheekbone with each word. “You want me to take care of that?”

“Only if you want,” Javier says, voice gone a little breathy as Kent shifts closer. It doesn’t take much to push Javier onto his back, and even less to slide on top of him, knees on either side of his hips. Javier’s definitely wide awake now, looking up at Kent with expectant eyes, mouth parted. Kent kisses that mouth, lavishes it with attention and tongue, deepening slowly until Javier whines in the back of his throat. Kent brackets his face and kisses him over and over, rocking his hips, shifting until he can feel the heavy heat of Javier’s cock pressed insistently against his own. Kent calls him good boy and that’s it, baby, and coaxes Javier to make more noise. His chest shines lightly with sweat, and Kent dips his tongue into the hollow of Javier’s throat, taking in the salt of his body, fingers in Javier’s hair to hold him down.

“I could ride you like this,” Kent tells him. “Would you like that?”

Javier swears to Jesus as his whole body shudders. 

“Answer me,” Kent says, fingers tightening in his hair just enough to make Javier hitch a breath. “Would you like that?”

“I’d like anything you gave me, _papi_.” His eyes widen, and red fills his cheeks. “Oh, uh—wow, that was weird. Sorry.” 

Something heavy and warm blooms in Kent’s stomach. He smiles, leans down and takes a trembling kiss from Javier. “Not weird. I didn’t mind.”

They kiss more, Javier’s hands cupping Kent’s face, then his neck, down his back. Javier’s voice is soft when he says, “Want me to demonstrate what I’d do to you if you’d let me?”

Demonstrations. A preview of what he could have, if he allowed it. Kent knows he can say no at any time. “Show me.” 

“I’d keep you just like this,” Javier says, shifting Kent a little until Kent is leaning back against Javier’s knees. “Right here, like this. Get you at a good angle. Get inside you like this and hold you here.”

Kent swallows. “Then what?”

Javier’s arm loops around his waist, moving him bodily on the bed. Kent clutches at his shoulders, trying not to be alarmed. Then Javier is between his spread knees, holding himself up, looking down at Kent with his warm, dark eyes. “Then I’d take you like this,” he says, big hand on Kent’s thigh, urging his leg to wrap high around his waist. “Slow. Make sure you really liked it. I’d make love to you just like this.”

Javier’s kisses are hot, and Kent’s fingers are twisted in Javier’s curls, his mouth aching for more. “Show me,” Kent murmurs, arching his back for more contact, his cock aching in his shorts. “Show me, like this.”

Sometimes it’s hard to believe just how powerful and strong Javier is, because he’s so gentle. Even know, bracketed in his arms with his legs splayed open, with Javier’s cock lined up against Kent’s, separated only by thin fabric, Javier is brimming with strength. But it never spills over. He never gives Kent more than Kent can take, and Kent groans against Javier’s mouth, pulling him greedily closer, the two of them frotting hard and tight and quick, Kent’s heartbeat rolling thunder in his body. He’s the first to come, of course, clenching his jaw tight to keep from crying out and letting the orgasm pound its way out of him. Javier cradles his face and kisses him enthusiastically, calling him _baby_ and _honey_ , panting when Kent bites at his lip, teeth sharp, soothing the nip with his tongue.

Before Javier can get himself going, Kent stops him with a hand to his chest. “Wait.”

It seems to hurt him, the pulling back. Javier’s face is pained but his hips are still. His arms are trembling like wet noodles, but he’s still. “Yeah? I can stop, you want me to stop? I’ll stop.” And he starts to pull away.

Smiling with sated satisfaction, Kent props himself up on his elbows and takes Javier’s mouth in another kiss. “Stop this, yes, but only because I want you on your back. Will you let me…” He doesn’t finish. For some reason, saying the word makes him flush. Javier is a wreck of epic proportions as he slides off Kent and flops heavily onto his back, his cock tenting his pants almost comically. He’s sheened all over in sweat. The way he looks at Kent, that desperation, is obscene and perfect. 

“What can I do?” Javier manages to ask, when Kent has started to wiggle his pants down. Kent is nervous as hell, but he repeats his mantra over and over in his head— _nothing you don’t want, nothing you don’t want, nothing you don’t want_. “I mean,” Javier says, shaking finely from his shoulders to his toes, “can I touch you? Or no? Or what can I—what will you let me do?”

Kent thinks about that as his heart pounds. When did he last do this? He can’t remember. His jaw aches thinking about it. “You can touch me,” he says slowly, trying out the words. “But don’t…pull anything. Just touch.”

Before he can talk himself out of something he wants, Kent grips Javier’s cock and slides his mouth over the head, down, tongue and lips feeling this sensation for the first time in a long time, and when Javier’s fingers, trembling things, thread through his hair, he relaxes and swallows and closes his eyes and _enjoys himself_. There’s no hurry. There’s nothing prompting him other than Javier’s quickened breathing, the way his chest hitches. He touches Kent’s chin once, lifting him off, so he can shift. Beyond that, he lets Kent do whatever he wants.

Kent, for his part, lets Javier come on his lips and cheek, surprised by the way Javier controls himself even though he clearly wants more. When Kent swirls fingers in the mess on his cheek and cleans himself up with his tongue, Javier makes a noise of need that Kent silences with his mouth. Long, long kisses. Deep and slow and sweet. Javier’s litany of love washing over Kent’s skin like a baptism. 

Drowsy and pleased, Kent nestles himself against Javier’s chest and closes his eyes. Kit hops on the bed and makes herself comfortable on Javier’s pillow. Together, they curl around him and hold him close. 

**

Summer continues on in days of running and training and skating, evenings at ballgames, nights with Javier. There are hosted team parties and team building exercises. Dex and Nursey become two of his closest friends, and Kent puts himself out there more than he ever has in his career—buying housewarming gifts and new baby gifts, throwing birthday parties. Being a real captain off the ice as well as on. Kent has another appointment with Blanca that goes well; she finishes her little sweater, and he finishes a hat for Bitty in Vancouver colors. He cries. She tells him she’s proud of him, and he says he’s proud of himself.

He visits three animal shelters, does two commercials, is on the cover of the Las Vegas Aces beefcake calendar (dressed in pinstriped baseball pants, high socks, cleats, and nothing else), and manages to do a small three minute infomercial on the Furminator, where Kit is the real star. His agent, Abdul, can’t praise him enough for his sudden flourish in the spotlight. Kent is even named Best Male Athlete by Nickelodeon’s Kid’s Choice Sports Awards, and brings Kit on stage with him to accept. 

Javier calls him from New York one evening in August, and he sounds stuffy like he’s got a cold. “Antonia told me,” he says, and Kent had almost forgotten what Antonia could’ve told him. “I told her I support her no matter what she decides. But I think I might be lying.” 

“That’s okay,” Kent tells him, as he puts together a fancy pizza for himself and slides it into his new oven, the recommendation of which came from none other than Eric Bittle. “It’s okay to be upset or disappointed. You know that, right?”

“I keep having bad thoughts,” Javier says, and his voice is low in the way it is sometimes when he’s feeling ashamed. “Wanting to blame her. To say things like, _I thought you were better than that_. But none of that makes sense. If I wouldn’t say it to a woman outside of the family, why do I feel that way about her? That’s not fair.”

Kent smiles a little as he leans against his counter, heart fluttering with the familiar feeling of love. “As good as we try to be, sometimes it just feels different with family even though we know it shouldn’t. At least you recognize the feelings, you know? And you’re putting her first.”

“I think she’s going to keep the baby,” Javier says, “and all I can think about is what if she never goes back to school.”

“That’s her decision,” Kent says, as gently as he can, and Javier’s huffy sigh is heavy.

“I know. I know, I know. And it’s a hard enough decision to make without feeling like you’ve disappointed someone you love. I know. So I’m just going to keep my weird opinions to myself, because she doesn’t need that from me. All she needs is for me to validate her decision, which whatever she chooses _is_ the right one.”

They talk about Antonia a little more after that, Kent reassuring Javier that no, he’s not The Worst Person, and yes, he’s doing the right thing by saying the words Antonia needs to hear. It’s mid-August but there’s no way the Scorpions are making the playoffs. They talk a little about that too, but Javier’s been weird about baseball discussions lately. The Scorpions have all but fizzled out. Javier himself has been riding the mediocre train for a while now. There’s still six more weeks left in the baseball season, but Kent wouldn’t know it if he didn’t have season tickets. Javier, ever the optimist, ever the bright spot against the darkness, is dark himself. Kent doesn’t know what to do about it, so he takes to tweeting in full force whenever Javier can’t be there with him, trying to be as charming and adorable as possible.

**@LostKangarooPatrol** hey @bibliobaker, is YOUR boyfriend this cute: img.0992  
 **@bibliobaker** @LostKangarooPatrol Oh my GOD, are we competing for cutest boyfriends now???  
 **@LostKangarooPatrol** @bibliobaker not really a competition tho is it @JMartinez7  
 **@bibliobaker** @LostKangarooPatrol You’re such a bitch sometimes, Parson. I raise you this: img.0021  
 **@LostKangarooPatrol** @bibliobaker that’s shopped @JackZimmermann  
 **@bibliobaker** @LostKangarooPatrol @JackZimmermann !!!! Oh my God, it’s on like Donkey Kong.  
 **@LostKangarooPatrol** @bibliobaker I nominate my extra cute boyfriend @JMartinez7 to kick your ass at video games  
 **@bibliobaker** @LostKangarooPatrol @JMartinez7 You can’t do that!! That’s not fair!!  
 **@LostKangarooPatrol** @bibliobaker @JMartinez7 it is too fair I saw it on game of thrones  
 **@bibliobaker** @LostKangarooPatrol @JMartinez7 YOU DID NOT SEE A VIDEO GAME BATTLE ON GAME OF THRONES  
 **@LostKangarooPatrol** @bibliobaker @JMartinez7 tomato, potato

**@bibliobaker** @LostKangarooPatrol Your ass is grass, Parson, and I’m gonna mow it.  
 **@LostKangarooPatrol** @bibliobaker pretend I just sent you a rad tina belcher gif that is a perfect insult  
 **@JMartinez7** @LostKangarooPatrol @bibliobaker Play nice, boys.  
 **@bibliobaker** @JMartinez7 @LostKangarooPatrol OOOOH KENNETH’S IN TROUBLE  
 **@LostKangarooPatrol** @bibliobaker @JMartinz7 he called you out too don’t act like you’re all sweet

**Kent:** hey baby, I miss you _(8:43PM)_  
 **Javvy:** I miss you too. Are you trying to butter me up or something? _(8:45PM)_  
 **Kent:** now why would I want to do that _(8:45PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Because you think I’m sad and you’re sweet. _(8:46PM)_  
 **Kent:** but you are sad and that makes me sad :( _(8:46PM)_  
 **Javvy:** I don’t know how not to be sad right now. And frustrated. And ashamed of myself. I feel like such a loser. _(8:47PM)_  
 **Kent:** I think the key word there is feel like. We’ve all been there baby. It sucks a lot but YOU don’t suck. Everyone has an off month or an off summer or an off year. Nbd. It’ll get better because you’ll work at it and make it better. Use this as an opportunity to identify things you can work on for the off season. Start making yourself a list. Prepare for next year. _(8:55PM)_  
 **Javvy:** I just realized something. _(8:56PM)_  
 **Kent:** how fucking smart I am? _(8:56PM)_  
 **Javvy:** Actually, yes. I know you’re smart, Kent. You’re clever and intuitive and really observant. I know those things. I guess I didn’t realize just how much? Or how much you pay attention to me. Not in a bad way, just. We do sort of have our own lives separate from one another. And I have a tendency to try to hide when I’m upset. _(8:58PM)_  
 **Kent:** I can always tell when you’re upset. And I want to fix it _(8:59PM)_  
 **Javvy:** I love you so much. _(8:59PM)_  
 **Kent:** I know. _(9:00PM)_  
 **Kent:** Same. _(9:51PM)_


	6. Chapter 6

**__**

fall

**Kent:** hey champ how u holding up _(9:31AM)_  
 **Bitty:** Honestly? My feelings change every half hour or so. Right now I’m in Full-On Dread Mode, and I am scared to death to live in a place where milk is in bags. _(9:32AM)_  
 **Kent:** honestly Vancouver is super fucking cool tho I think you’ll really end up liking it _(9:32AM)_  
 **Bitty:** I loved it when we visited looking for a house. And two hours ago, I was excited as hell. But Peyton just got here and my heart is breaking all over again. _(9:33AM)_  
 **Kent:** she’s tough, she’ll be okay. We’ll be there in like 10 min _(9:35AM)_

“How’s he doing right now?” Javier asks, wiggling into a pair of jeans while Kent watches with unabashed interest. He’s stretched out on their Boston hotel bed with Kit asleep on his stomach, and ever since they got in late last night, they haven’t exactly left the bed much. It almost feels like a honeymoon. 

“Not too good,” Kent says after a moment of ogling. “But I think he’ll ultimately be okay. I know his parents are already spending Christmas up there with him, and the girls have summer plans next year.”

Javier’s hands fumble with his t-shirt. He pulls it on and smooths it out across his stomach. This one says _Ask me about my video game achievements_ , and Kent sometimes can’t believe this tall, attractive, sexy young man wears such stupid shirts and makes them look so good. When Javier drops his socks, Kent realizes he’s nervous.

“Hey,” Kent says, rolling onto his side to deposit his cat onto the bed and climbing to his feet. “They’re going to love you the way everyone does when they meet you. Don’t be nervous.”

Javier turns into him when Kent touches his jaw, placing a kiss to Kent’s palm. “I’m always nervous with new people.”

“You’ve tweeted with them.”

“They’re still new.”

Kent smiles and rises up on his toes to kiss Javier’s frowning mouth. Ever since the season ended a week ago, he’s been…quiet. Hasn’t wanted to talk much about baseball or anything, really. So Kent’s been the chatterbox, engaging Javier in anything brainless, texting him constantly when he isn’t losing preseason to the Avalanche (fucking Avalanche). In the few days before hockey officially starts, they’ve been winding down their evenings by relaxing in bed and taking Buzzfeed quizzes together. There has been _a ton_ of kissing. And petting. And lots of good bodily feelings all around. Kent thinks, twice, about what it would be like to be married. He looks, once, for a wedding band online. 

He admits, half a dozen times, to being happy.

“That’s good,” Javier says, each time, a flush to his cheeks. “That’s real good.” 

When Javier is good and distracted but not too warm, they pull on hoodies and head out the hotel, walking the six blocks to Jack’s apartment. Once they arrive, everyone is already there: Maggie and Peyton, Paulie and Max, Lardo, Shitty, Ransom and Holster, March and Caitlin, Chowder, and a few other people Kent vaguely recognizes as Bitty’s coworkers. 

“Oh my God,” a girl with purple hair says, when she sees them. 

Bitty does a one-eighty, his face brightening when he sees them. For a fraction of a second, jealousy flares in Kent’s stomach before fizzling out. This is normal, he tells himself. It will always be his normal to be split-second jealous of Bitty. That doesn’t mean he’s a bad person, or that he still wants Jack. It’s just a Thing he has to bear.

“Parse, oh my God,” Bitty says, and before Kent knows it Bitty’s in his arms, squeezing him tight. Kent squeezes back. He would’ve never imagined this a year and a half ago. 

“It’s okay,” Kent tells him. “Don’t start crying, you get really snotty and gross when you cry.”

Bitty laughs against his shoulder and wipes at his eyes. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

“Me three,” Javier says, and he’s prepared for Bitty’s rocket-launch hug, scooping him up and putting one of those big hands at the back of Bitty’s head. 

Leaving the two of them to their reunion, Kent sees Paulie waving him over and trots to her side, where she gives him a hug. She and Maggie didn’t like him for a long, long time—for good reason. But now, he’s pretty sure he’s in their good graces.

“Long time no heckle,” Paulie says, while Kent bends to let Maggie kiss his cheek. “How you been, Parson?” 

“Up and down,” he says. “Fuck Colorado, right?”

Paulie laughs and he’s pleased with himself for causing it, getting hugs and kisses from March and Caitlin, then Ransom and Holster, then a hug from Jack. He’s introduced all around to Bitty’s coworkers, who all ask for autographs, and then he finds himself standing with Javier again, who has _also_ been passed around and shown off. Kent curls fingers with Javier and lets the discussion build up around them, interjecting when appropriate. Javier is fairly after his quick conversation with Bitty, and after about twenty minutes he sits off to the side with Max to color.

“Is he okay?” Jack asks, hands in his pockets. He stands close enough to Kent so they bump shoulders, and Kent reminds himself that Jack is still his friend and he is very lucky for it.

“No,” Kent says honestly. “He’s not.”

“They didn’t do that bad, did they? I don’t know what’s good or bad with baseball.” 

Kent shrugs. “I mean, they finished last, but not by much. I don’t think they did worse than what was expected of them—at least, that’s what I’ve been reading, and one of Javvy’s pitchers, Dallas Keuchel? He’s one of the vets on the team. He didn’t seem too concerned, you know? So more than the team, I think Javvy’s just real upset that he didn’t finish his own year like he wanted to.”

“Would they bench him?” Jack asks, and his voice is low but Kent shushes him anyway.

“Don’t even voice that into the cosmos,” he chides. “That’s his biggest fear. I don’t see it happening, but it terrifies him.” 

His .222 batting average also terrifies him, in addition to his twenty-six passed balls, the record for the season out of all major league catchers playing 60 games or more.

Kent’s been there, he has. Year before he made captain was the worst year of his career. Looking back, he realized how much he had to learn, and how good it was to get past it. But Javier is still in the middle of it—still feeling the sting and the disappointment, worrying about his contract and whether or not the Scorpions will want to keep him. Once the World Series is over and mid-November hits, there will be contract talk and trades and deals. Javier has a three-year deal with the Scorpions, but he can still get traded. And since he’s not five-and-ten year—five years with one team and ten years in the Majors—he can’t veto any trades, either.

_You’ll be fine_ , Kent’s been saying. _It’s only one year and the pitching staff loves you. It’ll be okay._

He hasn’t considered that it might not be, because then he won’t be able to focus on anything else.

“I hope everyone’s having a good time,” Bitty says, when he makes his way to Jack and Kent. “Is…is Javier okay?”

“He’s fine,” Kent says, glancing over at the table where Max and Javier are still coloring. Max is showing Javier how to do something on his own drawing. “Bad headspace for the end of the year, but he’ll be fine.”

Bitty nods, looks like he wants to say something, then seems to change his mind. It’s one of the best things about him—his ability to recognize in half a second what he shouldn’t say. Kent doesn’t think he’ll ever learn it. “Jack, do you think we should—are we ready?”

“Oh my God,” Kent says, “no way.”

“Don’t pretend like you know,” Bitty tells him snottily, and honestly, it’s one of his best looks. Kent smirks at him.

“What, that you’re married?”

It’s a shot in the fucking dark is what it is—a joke, really, until Bitty’s jaw drops and Jack throws his head back in a huge belly laugh. And then it makes sense—if Bitty’s going to be moving to Canada in two days, it’s easier as a married couple.

“I don’t know how you do it,” Jack says, still chuckling, “I really, really don’t know how. But when we do the actual ceremony, will you be my best man?”

Jack’s apartment is fucking dusty, Kent thinks, presses fingers to his eyes. Allergies are the worst.

**

**@Buzzfeed** MLB fines @LVScorpions an undisclosed amount for “unapproved promotional” shirts. What they mean: Vegas is too gay bzfd.it/42z900L

MLB Says Fine Is For “Unapproved Promotional” shirts: What They Mean Is “Vegas Is Too Gay”

For the first time in Major League history, an entire MLB team has been fined for doing something that other teams have been doing for decades—without repercussion. The only difference? Vegas is vocal in its support of its queer catcher, Javier Martinez.

Samantha Rinkel  
BuzzFeed News Reporter

 

The 2018 baseball season has been unprecedented in many ways, but none more obviously so than young catcher Javier Martinez’s complete and fabulous overhaul of the conventions of manhood.

To recap: We now have an out and proud sports star who is admittedly pansexual (the third-most Googled word this year alone, directly after his confession in _Cosmopolitan_ ), has a Twitter video tutorial of how he applies his concealer, did a photoshoot for the above-mentioned _Cosmopolitan_ while wearing lingerie and lipstick, is openly dating NHL star and Las Vegas Aces captain Kent Parson, and is an all-around genuinely nice person who talks to his mother almost every day.

In support of their young team, the Scorpions PR has gone all-out, selling out dozens of different rainbow-themed merchandise over the inaugural season, filming hilarious commercials that show off the human side of these athletes, involving themselves in a myriad of charities, and hosting more LGBT-friendly nights in a single season than any of the other Major League teams over the years _combined_. Take that, Chicago.

But MLB and its commissioner, Rob Manfred, aren’t mad about the “Suck My Stinger” 4th of July aprons. The fine is specifically for the #Partini shirts the Scorpions rolled out in honor of Martinez and Parson’s ship name. MLB’s reasoning? It violates their something something that doesn’t matter.

There’s nothing they can say to make this _not_ look like what it is: Homophobia. They not only let the Scorpions sell this shirt for months, and _sell out of this shirt for months_ , and use this shirt to _garner more paid seats at the ballpark_ that directly financially contributes to Major League Baseball, but they haven’t slapped the Washington Nationals with a fee for their #TurndonForWhat shirts, emphasizing the bromance between Trea Turner and Anthony Rendon. 

Why? Because _those_ two players aren’t actually dating. It’s queerbaiting, which seems to be okay for MLB. But when we are presented with a genuine and caring non-heterosexual relationship, suddenly profiting off of it violates terms of agreement…after the season is already over and there are no more seats in stadiums to be filled.

It doesn’t make sense. MLB publicly announced a partnership two years with the NGLCC, advocating for more LGBT clothing retailers and LGBT suppliers. Manfred himself said that “the LGBT community is part of the baseball community.” 

If it’s a part of the baseball community, what’s with the fine?

**

**@Buzzfeed** MLB team @Nationals on baffling @LVScorpions merchandise fine: “We’re matching their fine and donating to You Can Play”  
**@SFGiants** Hey @Buzzfeed, we’re in on this too! @MLB, the SF Giants are ready to be a part of #YouCanPlay! Taking donations now!

**@LVScorpions** If we had $50,000 for every time we got fined for rainbow t-shirts…wait.

**@Padres** .@MLB, we should ALL be a part of @YouCanPlayTeam! Let us in!! San Diego stands with #YouCanPlay and @LVScorpions!

**@LasVegasAces** Hey @LVScorpions, still have those #Partini shirts? First home game in 1 week, we’d love to have some! #WeDontGetFinedForBeingFun  
**@LVScorpions** @LasVegasAces Sadly, we are 100% sold out! But if you want to get some shirts ready, we have some ideas…

Kent flips through the tweets on his iPad and listens to voicemails left for him from various different news companies asking for him to weigh in on the fine. He doesn’t call anyone back. He doesn’t respond to any of the dozens of tweets directed at him. Instead, he goes to FaceTime and calls Javier.

It’s several rings before Javier answers, and when he does, he looks sleepy and mussed. “Kent?”

“Hey,” Kent says, feeling warm and fond just looking at those tousled dark curls. “Did I wake you?”

“Just from a quick nap. Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Kinda crazy about this whole fine thing, huh?”

Javier shrugs one bare shoulder. His eyes look sad. “Yeah.”

The silence stretches out for nearly ten seconds. Kent simply watches and waits. Gives Javier time to think, to figure out if he wants to say more or change the subject. Javier looks right back at him, not hesitating to meet his eyes. Then he says, “Kind of weird that you’re the one on the road and I’m not, huh?”

“Yeah,” Kent agrees, shifting on the bed so he can reach his water glass. “But we’ll get used to it.”

“I miss you more than I thought I would.”

“What do you miss the most?”

It’s a good distraction, Kent thinks, because he gets a smile out of Javier for that and for a little while, in the middle of effusing praises on Kent’s various body parts and all the bits of his personality that make him attractive, Javier doesn’t look sad or upset. And when they wrap up their call half an hour later, he seems almost back to normal.

“If I get benched,” Javier says, “it’s not the end of the world.”

“Definitely not,” Kent says. “I got benched for three games my first year. I worked really hard in practice and earned my spot back.”

“And if I get traded,” he continues, “it’s also not the end of the world.”

“Right. That’s probably not likely to happen, though. I’ve been reading some of the Hot Stove reports and stuff, and it doesn’t look like there are too many catchers on the market anyway, and the ones that are would probably not be interested in a new team. No offense,” he adds quickly, “no disrespect or anything, just an observation that you guys are really new so your job security is probably high.” He sighs. “I’m trying to be helpful here.”

Javier’s eyes crinkle when his smile hits midsize. “You _are_ helpful. Thanks again for helping me get…out of that headspace. It’s like I get to this point where I obsess over things and I can’t seem to get logical.”

“I can help you be logical.”

“I know.”

After a few moments of babytalk at Kit, who finally makes herself known, Kent’s yawn prompts Javier to say, “You need to go to bed, _cariño_.”

“Been a while since you called me that.”

“I was thinking that too. I should do it more often.”

“You should. I like it.”

“I love you.”

_I love you_. The words fall short of his lips, but he closes his eyes and thinks them so hard. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to say them. To admit aloud that he, Kent Parson, has fallen in—

“Sleep well,” he says, and Javier smiles one more time before the call ends. 

**

Direct Messages

**@swimmerfann** Hey, is it weird if I have a quick private chat with you here?  
**@LostKangarooPatrol** considering we have gone clubbing together and danced to nicki while completed wasted no I don’t think that’s weird at all  
**@LostKangrooPatrol** what’s up buttercup  
**@swimmerfann** Oh, you :P Your boy seems to be doing better. As a lifelong hockey fan, I singlehandedly blame him for making me pay attention to baseball. But he seemed to be so out of it for the last like…two weeks. I was just wanting to see if maybe there’s anything I can do to cheer him up? We had a lot of fun when you guys visited :)  
**@LostKangarooPatrol** you have a real big heart maggie. Thank you. I think he’s going to be okay now just a really tough season for him you know? He had high expectations of himself and according to him didn’t meet any of them, which like is sort of a lie but it’s what he believes so I don’t think anyone will change his mind there  
**@LostKangarooPatrol** but honestly if you want to do anything nice for him just distract him as much as possible. He’s actually been lifting weights with me and dex and nursey, he’s a good lifting buddy and I think that helping us focus on our success is letting him forget his failures  
**@swimmerfann** I can do that. The distracting part, I mean. I also (privately) think it helps that Bitty’s move to Canadaland has been like…disastrous so far. Poor Javier has been such a trooper.  
**@LostKangarooPatrol** holy fuck right? I told bits he should start a youtube channel dedicated to his move and baking and stuff and I think he might actually do it but yeah javvy’s been really good about being there during crises. When we play the canucks in nov javvy’s actually going to stay an extra two weeks. Bits doesn’t know yet so shhh but jack knows. I think it’ll help the transition and besides javvy’s never been to canada he’ll have a great time.  
**@swimmerfann** That’ll be so good for both of them!! And Bitty should absolutely start a vlog, let’s both keep on him for that. Since he won’t be able to work yet in Vancouver, he’ll have plenty of time on his hands, which he will absolutely hate. I was thinking he should have like a cornerstone of baking and booktalk, and then do extra fun things in addition.  
**@LostKangarooPatrol** that’s a great idea I fully support this and will gently harass him about it whenever the opportunity arises  
**@swimmerfann** Same!! Be good, Parse. Love from Boston! xoxoxo  
**@LostKangarooPatrol** kisses n hugs

 

**@LostKangarooPatrol** I wonder what it’s like being a cat who travels all the time  
**@LostKangarooPatrol** this cat like knows the drill for everything, like getting ready to fly being on the plane getting to the hotel etc  
**@LostKangarooPatrol** and I think she knows my schedule better than I do  
**@LostKangarooPatrol** for example I forgot to set my alarm this morning but realized I sort of don’t need to anymore img.082  
**@LostKangarooPatrol** yes my cat pulled the covers off of me to get me up to feed her  
**@LostKangarooPatrol** it was so loving and cute I nearly died  
**@JackZimmermann** @LostKangarooPatrol Please don’t die before I can beat you in November.  
**@LostKangarooPatrol** @LostKangarooPatrol wow don’t you think it’s a little early in the morn for fisticuffs old man zimms  
**@JackZimmermann** @LostKangarooPatrol Bring it on, Parson.  
**@bibliobaker** @JackZimmermann @LostKangarooPatrol WAIT. I have to get popcorn for this.  
**@LostKangarooPatrol** @bibliobaker @JackZimmermann popcorn for what nothing’s happening I think ol jacky here forgot he’s gettin on up in age here  
**@bibliobaker** @LostKangarooPatrol @JackZimmermann Riddle me this, cowboy. Aren’t you older than Jack?  
**@LostKangarooPatrol** @bibliobaker @JackZimmermann ok fine then I’m not talking physical age here I’m talking emotional age, jack is like 82  
**@bibliobaker** @LostKangarooPatrol @JackZimmermann …Okay, wow, I actually can’t refute that. He is kind of crotchety, isn’t he?  
**@JackZimmermann** @bibliobaker @LostKangarooPatrol Hey, you married it.  
**@bibliobaker** @JackZimmermann @LostKangarooPatrol jACK  
**@JackZimmermann** @bibliobaker @LostKangarooPatrol Oh whoops

**@JackZimmermann** I don’t know how to delete tweets.  
**@JackZimmermann** I don’t think it matters, people can find them anyway right? Like online?  
**@JackZimmermann** I was in a PR meeting once a few years back regarding social media. You’re not supposed to say anything you don’t want to be immortalized.  
**@JackZimmermann** Apparently I should’ve paid better attention.  
**@JackZimmermann** Anyway, I’m married. 

**@LostKangarooPatrol** @JackZimmermann your sheer technological ineptitude gives me a reason to live tysm

**

Jack’s tweet, though clearly not planned, is a godsend. It becomes the New Thing To Talk About, and the stupid fine on the Scorpions becomes boring. Bitty’s popularity catapults upward again, having dwindled as he and Jack stayed steady and didn’t participate in anything scandalous.

In mid-October, Kent is the first subscriber to bibliobaker’s YouTube channel, and the first one to comment on Bitty’s first video, an introduction to himself (“Hey, y’all!”) and what he wants for his channel. Kent’s comment reads _nice_ but he tells Bitty more in text. He even uses the word “proud” and gets a snap of Bitty tearing up. 

There’s a nice surprise waiting for him in his apartment when he gets in from a long week and a half of games. As soon as he opens the front door, he can smell Javier’s cooking.

“Thought you could use a good meal,” Javier calls out, as Kent drops his duffel and lets Kit out of her carrier. “I found this new recipe I thought we could try.” 

Kent puts arms around Javier from behind, face buried in his back. His shirt smells like the lavender Downy scent beads he uses, and his body beneath Kent’s hands is all familiar hard lines and ridges. Without thinking about it or planning it, his body reacts. He slips his hand underneath Javier’s shirt, feeling the quivering muscles there.

“How long until it’s ready?” Kent asks, hips pushing forward when Javier pushes back. The curve of his ass is once again stunning. Kent’s had dozens of ideas about that ass for a while now, though he’s never voiced them aloud. Maybe it’s time. Javier would probably let him do anything. 

“It’s in a crockpot for a reason,” Javier says, curling his fingers over Kent’s and pushing his hand lower. Javier is _hard_. Kent wonders how long he’s been that way, if he would have even said anything first. “Rice just started. Thirty minutes or so.”

Kent pulls him away from the stove, putting a hand to the back of Javier’s neck to keep him from turning around, pushing him forward toward the bedroom. “Not yet,” Kent says. “I want you undressed.”

“I can’t even kiss you hello?”

“Not yet.” 

Kent undresses him with deft hands, standing on his toes to pull the shirt up and over Javier’s ducked head. Then he pops the button on his jeans, slides down the zipper. Dips inside and presses fingers to Javier’s cock, swallowing hard so he doesn’t make any noises. Javier is silent and shaking and waiting.

“Can we try something?” Kent says, curling the band of Javier’s underwear down to reach his velvety skin. Something about his cock is desperately perfect. 

“Whatever you want,” Javier says, and he stands still to let Kent wiggle him out of his jeans, follows when Kent directs him to his knees on the bed. He bows his head, puts his chest to the mattress and cants his hips up. His underwear is still on, but his dark skin peeks through the white cotton. For several moments Kent has to press a hand to his cock to keep from going off. Javier is so big and so pliant at the same time. He gives in so easily. All Kent has to do is ask and he receives. 

When he puts his hands on Javier’s hips from behind, when he climbs onto the bed and pushes Javier a foot across the mattress, Javier makes a noise. His fingers clench in the comforter and now he turns a little to look at Kent with heavy eyes. “What are you gonna do to me?”

“What do you think?”

“I have several ideas.”

“So do I.” Off comes the underwear. Kent licks his thumb and presses against him, light, not wanting to move too fast. Javier’s spine goes boneless for a moment as he exhales with a half whimper, pushing back against Kent.

“You can do that as much as you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like it. I want it.” 

“Would you want more?”

“I want all of it.” 

Kent spreads him open and applies his mouth instead in one fluid movement, tongue sliding and exploring. The noises Javier makes then are small and almost disbelieving—his whole body tightens and releases over and over again, and when Kent rubs a fingertip _just there_ , Javier shudders and collapses on the bed, thighs shaking. 

Initially, Kent had thought only about this—tongue, fingers—but now he’s got Javier all but splayed for him, the round curves of his ass prime for biting. So he does—keeps his mouth soft and his teeth sharp, fueled by Javier’s encouraging little noises. 

And then Kent remembers the Playboy article that ran at the end of spring. Javier admitted to having never bottomed for a man before—only for girlfriends with strap-ons. _Not because I didn’t want to_ , he’d said, _but because it just never came up_. 

What happens if it comes up?

“Javvy.”

“Baby.”

Kent smiles. “Do you want to—can I—” He finds himself flushing uncontrollably then, which is ridiculous considering he just had his tongue in another man’s ass. “Will you let me fuck you?”

“God, yes.” Javier looks back at him with heavy-lidded eyes, a smile tipped at the corner. “Yes, yes, yes, yes. Yes, please.”

With the condom on and a little lube (“You don’t have to take a lot of time with me, please, I want you inside me”), Kent shifts him further up on the bed, hands sliding over Javier’s warm, damp skin, bending to kiss at his side, his back, waiting until Javier is shaking and begging before shifting his hips and pushing in. It’s an easy slide. Javier’s body is always so ready for him—it’s simple to coax and love and build until he breaks. Kent finds himself shaking as he strokes down Javier’s spine, looking over the expanse of burnished amber skin he gets to touch, his hips moving into the tight heat he’s been given. Javier presses his face into the mattress and pushes his hips up and back, Kent slipping in that last little bit, seated deep. He’s panting. Javier’s panting. Javier reaches a hand back and Kent grasps it, fingers slippery, and holds on.

It’s the slowest fuck he’s ever had. Slow and deep and quiet, no words slipping between them other than Javier saying _that, do that again_ and Kent asking to try something else. He pulls out, gets Javier on his back, and then all he can focus on is heat and dark eyes, Javier looking up at him in wonder, touching his face. Now they kiss, Javier’s fingers sliding into Kent’s hair, mouths soft and supple. Kent pushes in a little more, takes the sound Javier makes right out of his mouth. Javier holds him close, his thighs spread and his knees hitching up, his heel pressed into the back of Kent’s thigh. They kiss. Kent feels almost sleepy and soft with this, though his body is tight as a drum, thrumming in time with his punching heart.

Then, Javier puts a hand to Kent’s waist, asks him to stop. Kent does, still in deep, and Javier simply looks at him. Professes his love. Touches Kent’s chin and his mouth and his cheekbones. Traces his nose and his eyebrows. Rises up that little bit to kiss his cheek. Kisses his ear when Kent buries his face in Javier’s chest. It’s almost a sensory overload, being here like this. Despite the pounding of blood in his body and his aching cock, he’s calm and filled with light and love.

“I don’t know where you came from,” he hears himself saying.

“Texas,” Javier says, and that makes Kent laugh. He tangles their fingers together, pulling Kent closer, asking him to come for him. _Please_ , Javier says. _Come for me. Please._

There used to be a time (and there still is, really, depending on the person) when Kent despised doing something because someone told him to, even if they asked nicely. As a kid, he imagined himself to be a porcupine, spines always at the ready, protecting anything soft. He can’t say that he had a bad relationship with his parents, because he didn’t really _have_ a relationship with them. They fed him and clothed him. They got him a tutor when he needed help in school. They paid for hockey camps. They showed up to his games but never practices. They gave him anything he wanted as long as it wasn’t their time or affection. They were two people who lived in a house together and who raised a child together and rarely spoke.

Kent feels soft with Javier. He sometimes feels soft with Jack and Bitty, and now Dex and Nursey. He feels soft with Maggie. He feels soft with Jacinda. And he tells himself despite how it makes him sick sometimes, it’s okay to be soft with people who won’t take advantage of you.

Kent presses his face into Javier’s shoulder, and he comes. 

**

“You seem to be in a good mood,” Blanca says, when Kent tells her hello.

“Things are good,” he says, putting his feet up on one of his kitchen chairs and sipping his coffee. “Everything is good.”

“Have you been trying what we talked about last?”

He nods and can’t help but to flush a little. “Yes. I deserve nice things.”

“You do. And what happens when you ask?”

“I get the nice things.”

“How does that make you feel?”

He thinks for a moment. “Important.”

“I know you were going to start with Javier,” she says, “but what about your other friends? Have you asked them for anything?”

Shaking his head, Kent takes a sip of coffee before responding. “Not yet. But I will.”

Their conversation is fairly short, well under the usual hour, but Kent doesn’t feel like he needs a whole hour. They still talk twice a week. But maybe, he thinks as he’s loading the dishwasher, it doesn’t take as long when he doesn’t need to fight for control.

After morning skate, Kent, Dex, and Nursey go back to Kent’s place, where Javier is mixing smoothies before weights.

Nursey gives Javier a complicated sort of fistbump/handshake before taking his banana smoothie. Kent and Dex both get slaps on their asses from Javier as they all move into the weight room. Dex looks supremely surprised and a little red, which Kent can’t help but to point out.

Javier is probably the best lifting coach Kent’s every had; certainly for the younger two, he’s a godsend. He’s efficient, moves around the room constantly checking form and giving encouragement, and he plays excellent high-energy music just this side of too loud. He fetches water and clean towels as needed and even passes out energy bars once their two hours are up.

Once Dex heads to his massage appointment and Nursey heads home, Kent sits quietly at the kitchen table with Javier while Javier does an interview with _Teen Vogue_. They talk politics, favorite music and movies, and what his advice is to young people. When the interviewer, a woman named Carol, realizes that Kent is there, she asks him for a comment or two, so Kent gives it with Javier’s arm slung around his shoulders and a smile on his face. 

October moves smoothly, his days compromised of skating and workouts, a few evenings a week filled with some of the best hockey the Aces have ever played. Kent notices that the hits put on him are increasing in brutality, but his teammates back him up and offer harder hits of their own. Everyone is in the sin bin, but the Aces have more penalty kills than any other team heading toward the end of the month. Kent buys two of the limited edition rainbow jerseys, one for him and one for Javier, (PARTINI 97 on the back, a combination of his and Javier’s numbers), and after wearing them once each and taking plenty of pictures in them, they auction them off on the Aces website with all proceeds going to You Can Play. 

In the middle of the World Series between the St. Louis Cardinals and the Texas Rangers, a feature article runs in _Entertainment Weekly_ about the entire Las Vegas Scorpions team, chronicling their inaugural season, the players themselves, and what can be expected in the future. The Scorpions’ GM, Billy Bean, emphasizes an optimistic and open clubhouse, one he always wished he had as a player. Though the article is a little heavier on Javier overall, Kent is pleased that the rest of the team has a part to play as well. It’s easy to overlook them, he thinks, when so much interest surrounds just one player. But Javier isn’t a spotlight hog and often brings his team up in interviews whenever he can.

Then there’s the team visiting Ellen Degeneres on her show, and Jimmy Kimmel on his, and there’s even a hilarious _Mean Girls_ skit with Jimmy Fallon (“Stop trying to make Partini happen.”). The Scorpions are the most popular team with non-baseball fans, and their international base explodes. Quick to adjust to trends, and ready to ignore the commissioner, the Scorpions begin to offer all shirts and jerseys in different languages—first Spanish and French, then Mandarin, Japanese, and Arabic. The site can’t keep the shirts in stock, so the Scorpions start linking to other websites that offer similar shirts and styles. The partnership with outside manufacturers is unheard of. Major League Baseball sends a cease and desist letter. The Scorpions refuse, and are fined again. The fine is paid for by enthusiastic fans, and the excess donations are given to various LGBT sports charities across the country. 

Sometimes Kent finds himself so proud and so overwhelmed he has to close his eyes and take a deep, slow breath, his smile all but a permanent fixture now. When he does his usual pre- and post-game interviews, he feels more genuinely himself than he thinks he ever has. Some of his regular journalists have noticed, and at one point Maria de la Cruz turns off her recorder, looks him in the eyes, and says, “Love is a great look on you, Parson.”

For Halloween, Javier hosts a party at his house for the Scorpions, the Aces, and their families. He sets up a projector outside on the side of his house for the kids, featuring _Hocus Pocus_ and _Halloweentown_. He’s dressed as Daenerys Targaryan and Kent is Drogo, essentially the exact opposite of what everyone would expect, and their tweets are retweeted nearly a hundred thousand times in less than twenty-four hours. Life is so good. Life is the best.

**

“That doesn’t look good,” Javier says, as Kent FaceTimes him from Detroit in early November. Javier’s frowning, and so is Sung-Ki Kim, one of Javier’s relief pitchers, who’s over at Javier’s for the evening for a video game marathon. 

“I’ve never seen a bruise like that,” Sung-Ki says, shaking his head. “I thought there was a hockey penalty for unnecessary roughness?”

“Zimms said most of the refs won’t call it,” Kent says, wincing as he pulls his shirt back on. The bruise on his side looks like a very large prehistoric mammal tried to bite him. “Not on guys like us.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sung-Ki says. “When Martinez here got a brushback mid-season, the umps were all over it. Remember, they tossed what’s his name, Corbin? On the Dbacks?”

Javier shrugs. There’s something in his expression that makes Kent ache a little. He looks genuinely upset. “Yeah, well. Apparently hockey isn’t as fair as baseball.”

“Someone should change that,” Sung-Ki says, moving out of view for a moment. Kent hears the fridge opening, and he knows Javier is probably well stocked with everyone’s favorite alcohol.

“I’ll be okay,” Kent tells him. Javier nods. He doesn’t look convinced, but at least he doesn’t say anything that would make Kent feel guilty. Like, _I’m worried about you_. That would be the worst.

“I’ll be seeing you in Vancouver,” Javier says instead. “I can’t believe Jack and Bitty still haven’t settled on a house.”

Kent snorts, thinking about the dozens of whiny tweets Bitty had sent his way, begging him to ‘talk some sense into that boy.’ “I know, right? I liked the yellow one personally.”

“Oh, with that big porch and the red door? That one was amazing. What did Bitty say was wrong with it?”

“Zimms didn’t look _excited enough_ , so he assumed Zimms didn’t want it.”

Javier laughs. The sound is soothing. “Jack doesn’t often look super excited about anything off the ice. I figured Bitty would be well versed in that by now.”

“Who knows? At least they have a short-term rental now instead of the hotel. I think that’ll help Bits feel a little more settled.” Kent shifts on the bed so he can accommodate Kit in his lap. “Does he know you’re spending a couple of weeks with him?”

Javier moves to the couch, where the sounds of battle are louder. Sung-Ki is cursing the screen and Javier just grins. “No, he doesn’t, but Zimms does. I may try to help facilitate with the house-buying. Jack already texted me a really short list of what he wants. Everything else he says is up to Bits.”

Kit nuzzles at Kent’s jaw and he gives her little kisses before responding. “Let me guess—he wants a finished basement, two stories, and a two car garage.”

“That’s it! How did you know?”

“I know the guy. He’s simple. I’m sure there are plenty of options with that criteria.”

“As long as we can convince Bitty, I think we’ll be good to go.”

They talk a little more after that, Javier saying his usual _I love you_ and Kent adding, “Same” for the first time. Javier’s grin and blush are beautiful. Kent disconnects the call, tweets a few times, puts more pictures up on Instagram of Kit (tagging Maggie and Paulie in particular), and drifts off to sleep in moments. 

 

Kent absolutely loves Vancouver; he always has. But the best part is seeing Javier in Vancouver, waiting in the lobby of Kent’s hotel, dressed in jeans and sneakers and an Aces hoodie. His hair is growing out and he hasn’t shaved in a couple of weeks. Kent admits, privately to himself, that this is his favorite Javier look.

Before he can say hello, though, a group of boys—maybe teenagers, maybe early college—approach Javier and say something to him. Javier stands up. The boys, though tall, look impossibly short next to him as most people do. For a second Kent is worried that the boys have said something rude, but then Javier throws his head back and laughs, nods, and gathers them around him for a selfie with the blonde boy’s phone.

“Want me to take that?” Kent asks as he walks up, and the boy closest to him—a small redhead who looks far younger than his friends—does a double take, whispers _oh my god_ and won’t meet Kent’s eyes.

“You wanna join?” the tallest one asks, and Kent shrugs and settles himself in the picture. They take several. Kent, feeling easygoing, follows them all on Instagram and Twitter. They don’t try to talk for too long, instead thanking both him and Javier too much before heading to the front desk to get their room. Javier puts an arm around Kent’s waist and pulls him in for a half-hug. Kent wants to kiss him, but doesn’t. In public, they rarely, if ever, touch. Even this hug is a lot, and they separate rather quickly. 

“People here are so nice,” Javier says. “Even the border services guys were awesome.”

Kent chuckles as they head out to the waiting cab together. “That’s Canada for you. I’ve always liked it, even being the opposing team. They have some of the best insults I’ve ever heard.” 

The trip to Bitty and Jack’s townhouse is quick, and Javier fills the cab space with chitchat, both with Kent and the driver. Bitty meets them downstairs and gives Kent a huge hug before letting Javier pick him up and carry him back inside. 

“Brunch is ready,” Bitty says, from his perch on Javier’s shoulder. “Jack’s in the shower. My sole wish for you, Parse, is to convince him to pick one of these goddamn houses.”

“I’m good,” Kent says, “but I’m not that good.”

After Javier lets him down, Bitty loads up their plates with biscuits and gravy and grits. Kent dives in enthusiastically, mouth full as Bitty and Javier talk back and forth. After their first plate is done (Kent plans on three), Javier lets Bitty know he’s staying for two weeks.

“I can keep you some company while Jack’s on a roadie,” he says, and Bitty doesn’t cry but he looks at Javier with adoring wet eyes. They settle in close together and look at houses while Kent works on plate number two and gives Jack a salute when he appears.

Sometimes, when Kent gets a look at Jack in person after a while apart, he feels something and nothing at the same time. It’s strange when he thinks about it, almost like he expects to feel something more than he does now. There’s no doubt that Jack is one of the most attractive men Kent has ever seen in person. And when he thinks back to Jack when they were young, when he can remember how Jack’s mouth felt under his, Jack’s hands on his body…it used to make him so jealous of Bitty his jaw would hurt from clenching so tightly. Now it’s a vague sort of remembrance, an experience that he had that was good and is nothing more than that now. He doesn’t want it again. He doesn’t want it in the future. 

Now he looks over at Javier, who’s typing on Bitty’s laptop, who throws back his head and laughs at something deadpan Jack says. Javier with his dark skin and his curls and his thick lashes. This is a man who has, against all odds, become one of Kent’s closest friends, his boyfriend, and one of the best supporters Kent has ever has. Javier has taken things in stride and been patient as hell and has confided in Kent in such a way that makes Kent feel like a Really Good Friend. The last two years of his life have taught him so much in so many ways. More than anything, though, he’s proud of the person he’s become. With Javier’s help, with Blanca’s, with Jack and Bitty and Maggie and Paulie, with Dex and Nursey, Kent has become the kind of person he was always jealous of—someone with friends he can count on.

“You’re deep in thought,” Jack says, taking a seat next to him with his own huge plate of biscuits and gravy. Jack won’t touch the grits, which Kent thinks is a damn shame.

“Not too deep,” Kent tells him. “But they are some pretty good thoughts.” 

**

The Canucks beat the Aces in OT. It’s the first loss of the season for the Aces, but it’s a great game overall. The Canucks are a solid organization, and the support they’ve given to Jack is immeasurable. It makes the move easier, Bitty has said. Knowing that Jack is appreciated this much as a player. Kent is still holding out hope that Jack will be named captain. It’s something he has deserved pretty much his entire career, particularly with the way he’s come back after his broken leg. 

“I’m sorry you lost,” Javier tells him, when they have a moment alone together in Kent’s hotel room before they head out to dinner. “But you played really well, and you’re still leading the league in points.”

“Zimms is right behind me,” Kent says, leaning into Javier when those big arms come around him from behind. Looking out at the lights of Vancouver is soothing. “That’s good for him, though, especially with all he’s been through. As long as he doesn’t get ahead of me, I’m fine.”

“Second place and no better, right?”

Kent grins. “Right.”

They’re quiet for a while, Kent closing his eyes when Javier’s mouth falls to his neck. It’s a soft little kiss. There will be more later, he knows.

“I love watching you play,” Javier says. “You’re so _good_ at it.”

“I’m going to get you on the ice one day, you know.”

“The day you do that is the day Jack pulls ahead of you in points.” 

Kent squeezing his hands. “I’m going to keep you to that. Might be a good reason to let him pull ahead.”

“Let him, he says.”

“That’s right.” Kent turns around and slides his arms around Javier’s neck, raising up on his toes and pulling Javier down to give him a long, slow, sweet kiss. “Ready for dinner?”

“I’m ready.” Javier looks at him for a moment, thumb brushing Kent’s bottom lip. “Damn, you’re gorgeous. Sometimes it just kinda hits me.”

“I think TMZ described me as being a blonde bombshell ingénue.”

“It fits like hell,” Javier says, and Kent kisses him again and again and again before they have to leave. 

**

Javier’s two weeks in Vancouver with Bitty is chronicled on his vlog. They do all sorts of Vancouver-y things together, Javier helps them pick out a house, and by the time Thanksgiving rolls around, Jack and Bitty have moved into a five bedroom, four bath Queen Anne style house with a finished basement Jack turns into a gym and an absolutely gorgeous kitchen. Bitty hosts his and Jack’s parents for the holiday, and Kent is happy that Jack doesn’t have a game that night.

Kent does, in Tampa Bay. Before he gets on the bus to go to the rink, he FaceTimes with the Martinezes and wishes them a happy Thanksgiving.

“I am grateful and thankful for _you_ ,” Jacinda tells him, pointing a sauce-covered spoon at him. Just out of the frame, Kent hears Javier chuckle. “You, Kent Parson, are one of the happiest things I have ever had. I am thankful for you, and I want you to know how proud I am that you are part of my family.”

Kent smiles at her, his heart growing another few sizes like it usually does when she looks at him with such love. “I’m so glad,” he says slowly, “that I got paired with him at the benefit. I never thought I’d be so lucky.”

“He is lucky,” she says, “you are lucky, we are all so lucky. We love you, Kent Parson.” 

“I love you too,” he says. The words are painfully unfamiliar in his mouth, but he means them. It’s been a long time since he’s said them like this, he thinks. To a mother. But she’s a good mother. She deserves his love, and he deserves hers. And the look on her face when he says it is a gift he never thought he’d ever have.


	7. Chapter 7

**__**

full circle

Why I’m Thankful For Kent Parson in 2018  
Britton Petrov  
_Posted on December 27th, 2018 AT 10:04PM EST_  


When I was fourteen years old, I watched Kent Parson play for the U.S. National Junior Team. I had the biggest crush on him, to be honest. He was pretty much the most perfect boyfriend I could ever imagine—that angel face, those cheekbones, the way every smile he gave was at least three-quarters a smirk. And let’s, for just a moment, talk about the perfect devil-may-care coif of blonde hair he’s sported his entire life. There’s a tumblr called kent-parsons-cowlick, and I won’t lie—I reblog from it religiously. His cocky attitude, his unbelievable career numbers, all of it sort of rolls together to create this supreme being that comes across as aloof and untouchable.

I have always loved Kent Parson, and I’ve even been lucky enough to meet him a few times, but it’s a well known fact that while everyone likes him, not many people can claim to know him. He’s always reminded me a lot of myself—weird childhood with parents who weren’t really parents, privileged upbringing, a deep-seated need to compete for everything and to always come out on top. Parson, much like myself, has carefully cultivated a very specific image for himself that has changed little over the years. He’s funny, clever, intelligent, and extremely intuitive when it comes to hockey. He’s charming as hell. He plays with the media and they eat up every moment of it, because when push comes to shove, Parson actually gives them everything they could ever want. He does the most unexpected things that totally fit who he is (remember this famous tweet—the one that absolutely killed me—where he straight-up announced that he has a boyfriend? Yeah, I remember it too). 

And yet the past year of being a Kent Parson fan has been the wildest ride ever. It’s almost as if, little by little, he’s softening his mask and showing us, his fans, the people, lovers of hockey, who he really is inside. He’s still funny, of course, and clever and smart and playful.

But Kent Parson has an unexpectedly huge heart, and while I hate the concept of finding that One True Person that makes you who you are, it’s obvious that Las Vegas Scorpions catcher Javier Martinez has been instrumental in making Parson comfortable enough to be _real_.

“It’s kind of like this,” Parson said, in a recent interview on _Ellen_. “You know how colors can look different depending on the lighting that you’re in? I feel like he just gives me a different light, you know? I see things a little differently because of him, a little better. He and Zimms—Jack, you know—and Bitty, they’ve made me feel comfortable enough to explore parts of myself I’d always hidden away. I always felt like I had to protect myself from getting hurt. That I wasn’t worth these kinds of things. And honestly? I’ve been seeing a therapist for the last six months, and it’s been a life-changing experience. I have Borderline Personality Disorder, and I’m getting help, and I think I finally like the person that I am maybe for the first time in my life.”

Something about Parson has softened over the last year. He hasn’t changed, really, but his edges have blurred. He comes across as more honest. When I had the opportunity to meet him after last week’s Aces game, I told him how much I appreciated his confession of his mental illness. He gave me a hug and told me that it’s hard to admit things like that, but it’s the best thing he’s ever done. “I want to see a therapist,” I said, basking in the warmth of his unbelievable arms. His smile (go check out kent-parsons-stupid-smile on tumblr if you want some of the best smile pics _ever_ ) is something I will never forget. “Good for you,” he told me. “You are so brave.”

Which brings me to Javier Martinez. At the 2018 Las Vegas Aces Casino and Benefit Night, Parson and Martinez (Partini, for those of you living under a boulder this year) were again paired up at the bar. Again Martinez was mixing drinks with Parson as his assistant. But the biggest difference this year, other than the _huge_ crowd waiting to meet them, was Parson. 

I have never seen him visibly have such a good time without looking like he was putting on an act.

Love has never looked so good.

**

End of the Year Q&A With Aces Captain Kent Parson  
_posted on Dec. 30, 2018, at 11:16 a.m._  
Caroline Slaughter  
BuzzFeed News Reporter

 **BuzzFeed:** Let’s jump right into it, no preamble—first question is from Becky in New Jersey. “Are you ever going to get another cat? Maybe a little sister or little brother for Kit?”

 **Kent Parson:** I am definitely going to get another cat, I’m just not sure when. It’s hard with the traveling I do, and Kit’s pretty special with how chill she is. But yes, one day, I am totally getting another cat. I want fifty of them. I want to be overrun with cats. If you knock on my door, I want five thousand cat voices to tell you hello. 

**BF:** Jake in Detroit says, “My odds are five to one that the Aces are going to win the Cup—can you please guarantee this for me?”

 **KP:** Done. I’m gonna win the Cup. Hashtag calling it.

 **BF:** Gina in New Orleans asks, “Are you and Javier going to get married? If so, where can you see the wedding?”

 **KP:** We’ve only recently begun to use the M-word, but if it’s gonna happen, it’ll probably be in El Paso with his family. I think his mother would kill us all if we didn’t do it there. 

**BF:** Trent in Reno says, “You’ve done so much for the LGBTQA community, as well as becoming an advocate for mental health. What’s next for 2019?”

 **KP:** First I’m gonna get the Cup for my pal Jake in Detroit. And then, I don’t know. I haven’t thought that much ahead, I guess? Zimms is having that summer wedding in Georgia, so I’ll be his best man for that, but other than that…I’m just focusing on the Cup. 

**BF:** Sonia in Corona asks, “Do you want kids?”

 **KP:** I didn’t used to. I was afraid of the kind of parent I would be, and I thought I could never love anything enough, you know? I have a lot of issues I’m still working on, and while I’m making progress, this isn’t a race. I’m going to be making progress my whole life. But the more I think about it—because people actually ask me this question pretty often, believe it or not—I think I do want kids one day. I want the opportunity to change a child’s life. Being around some of my friends’ kids has helped a lot, too. I don’t feel like I’m, you know. Horrible and awful or anything.

 **BF:** Follow up from me—does Javier want kids?

 **KP:** Oh yeah, he definitely does. We’ve talked about that very briefly in the sense of where we want our relationship to go in the future and where we see ourselves in five, ten, fifteen years. I think I’d have to be done with hockey to raise a kid. I want to do it right. I don’t want to have any regrets. 

**BF:** Harold in Tampa Bay says, “How do you really feel about the recent fine you got for unsportsmanlike conduct for that killer boarding penalty against the Devils?”

 **KP:** I was lying pretty hard in the post-game interview, wasn’t I? In all honesty, complete honesty, I feel two things about this situation. One, I’ve never been so fucking pissed in all my life. The hits on me in particular are exactly what Zimms went through when he came out, and frankly, I find it to be tired and old-fashioned. People are gay and bi. If you want to hit me because I’m better at hockey than you are, go for it. But if you’re hitting me because I happen to like dick, you can fuck right off. Two—okay, I don’t know where I was going with this, but basically the fine is bullshit but I’m going to pay it because what else can I do? I’m not going to stop boarding assholes, though. Fucking quote me on that.

 **BF:** From Lisette in Austin, “Can you tell us what was going through your head when you kissed your very attractive boyfriend in an ESPN2 interview three days ago? Please? It was like the sweetest TV kiss I’ve ever seen.”

 **KP:** Hashtag Partini is better than Zimbits. No, but really, I don’t know. I guess I was just thinking about how it’s so easy for straight-appearing couples to be affectionate on TV. And how much I just really wanted to kiss him. So I just kinda did it. It wasn’t planned or anything. I said something about him in reference to spring training—honestly I don’t even remember what it was now—and then I just sort of looked at him and thought he looked like he needed a kiss, so I did it. And then the interview continued, so shoutout to non-shitty reporters for not making a big deal of it. And shoutout to Javvy for not bursting into flames. Did you guys see his face? He was so red. 

**BF:** Doug in Gainesville asks, “What’s the best thing that happened to you in 2018?”

 **KP:** If I have to pick just one, and only one, I would probably say it was falling in love. And being able to admit that I am in love. I’m in love with this guy, and I never thought those were words I could say. I say it to him all the time now. I say it to his mom. I’m saying it to you. I’m fucking in love, and that’s the best thing that’s happened to me in 2018, before, after, whatever. I’m in love. That’s pretty cool. If you get the chance to fall in love, I highly recommend it. 10/10, definitely rad, lots of perks and benefits. 

**BF:** Follow up from me—Are you going to be moving in together?

 **KP:** You think we haven’t already?

 **BF:** So the rumors about you putting your apartment up for sale are true.

 **KP:** Isn’t it great when rumors turn out to be true? We’re living together, we’re in love, blah blah, fairy tale, pretty happy, 2019 looks fucking killer and I hope everyone has the best year of their damn lives. Because I certainly intend to do that myself. 

**BF:** What about the rumor of a new reality TV show starring you and Javier?

 **KP:** I cannot confirm or deny that, but if I could, I still wouldn’t.

 **BF:** Thanks for giving us a ton to talk about this year, Kent Parson. We’ll catch you on the flipside.

 **KP:** When I win the Cup, can you run a story about how sad Jack Zimmermann is about it? That would be great, thank you. 

**

“You’re so funny,” Javier says, fingers threading in Kent’s hair as he reads over the BuzzFeed Q&A. “You’re just so fucking funny.”

“I know. I love you.”

Javier looks at him with crinkled eyes and a big smile. They’re in bed together, in Javier’s house— _their_ house—and Kent is so warm and big and small and happy and everything in between. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

“I have a lot of time to make up for. I love you.”

Javier puts his phone aside and tugs at Kent until Kent is straddling his hips and looking down at him. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

Javier reaches up and traces the outline of his mouth. Kent kisses the pad of his thumb. “I love you too, Kent Parson. So much.”

“I know,” Kent says. “I know, I know, I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks go to Cassia, Mary, Sydney, Rachel, and Ils for being great cheerleaders, brain pickers, and for helping me develop my most favorite original character ever in Javier Martinez.
> 
> Also thanks to all of you on tumblr and Twitter who encouraged me and listened to me whine a whole lot through this whole process. I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you. So much. 
> 
> Come holler at me [on tumblr](http://marswithghosts.tumblr.com) about all manner of things, I am Always Down.


End file.
